What if and more
by lovetheturners
Summary: One shots that explore unseen scenes, what ifs and POVs. Anything that comes into my head and needs to be written. Chapter 23 contains Series 7 spoilers. Starting at chapter 25, each chapter is a Patrick POV on the episodes starting with the very first one through the end of S2.
1. The Phone Call

Chummy stood in the doorway, waiting to be noticed. The casual way he sat on the edge of his desk took her by surprise. Dr. Turner was on the phone and she could not avoid hearing him.

He said quite passionately into the phone, "You are not traveling thirty miles by public transport...Sister Bernadette."

It was then that he looked up and noticed her. Holding his hand over the receiver, he asked what she needed.

Having delivered her message she returned to Dolly Smart,her laboring patient. She felt awkward about interrupting him and she wondered why he would be speaking to Sister Bernadette.

Although the Sisters were silent, The nurses at Nonnatus House were a buzz about the news that Sister Bernadette was not returning and questioning what God wants of her. Cynthia was full of disbelief and questions.

What Chummy could not put right was why she would be calling Dr. Turner when she was going to the Mother House. Her nagging thoughts did not go away when Dr. Turner rushed out following his examination of Dolly.

By the time Jenny arrived, Chummy was about to explode. She wanted to be told that what she saw and heard was perfectly normal. As she told Jenny about the phone conversation and Doctor's sudden departure, she began feeling faint twinges in her own belly.

Jenny whispered,"It sounds a bit strange are you sure that you heard it right?"

She assured her that she had, but their moment to themselves was over and Dolly needed them.

Between taking care of Dolly and the start of her own labor, Chummy did not think about the phone conversation again.

Jenny Lee listened to Chummy story, but was too busy to give it a moment of thought. Her day went terribly wrong after Chummy haemorrhaged and was rushed to hospital. As they sat in holy silence throughout the day and night waiting for news, all she thought about was Chummy.

It was not until after she and Sister Julienne returned from visiting Chummy that Jenny even remembered their previous conversation that now seemed so very long ago.

Jenny and Trixie were together with Cynthia in the room they shared. Jenny was telling about the visit to Chummy. They were still shaken by how close Chummy had come to leaving them.

Cynthia said, "I heard Sister Evangelina speaking to Sister Julienne. She said 'just like that she did it' and Sister Julienne silenced her clearly not wanting to be overheard."

Trixie said, "She may have been talking about Sister Bernadette. She was here yesterday when Chummy was in labor. I saw her leave when I was bringing down the empty soapy bowl. She was...she was…"

"She was what?" Cynthia asked.

Trixie took a deep breath and said, "She was wearing a suit and she had come from Sister Julienne's office. I saw her from behind and I recognised her walk."

Cynthia's face looked sad, but she spoke first,"Do you think what Sister Evangelina meant was that she already left the order? I just don't understand why she would do that."

Jenny who had been quiet said, "Chummy overheard a telephone conversation yesterday. Apparently she was taking the bus from the sanatorium. I guess we now know she was coming here to meet with Sister Julienne."

"Telephone conversation. Who was she speaking to?" Trixie asked.

"That's the interesting thing. She was talking to Dr. Turner," Jenny said.

"Why Dr. Turner?" Cynthia asked.

"I don't know," Jenny said, "Chummy said he rushed out of the maternity home right after the call."

"Do you think he went to get her in his car?" Cynthia asked.

"I don't know if anyone else noticed, but he has been acting strange lately," Trixie said.

"No, but what does that have to do with anything?" Jenny asked.

"Maybe he is the reason why she left the order," Trixie whispered.

"Trixie, you're crazy!" Jenny said.

"Yes, you're not funny," Cynthia added.


	2. The Bed

They had arrived at Hope Mission at the same time as the others. Although the rest had traveled by ship and they by airplane.

Prior to this journey the furthest Shelagh had traveled was from her home in Inverurie to London for nurse's training at The London. For well over ten years, she only left London a few times. One of which was for their holiday in the New Forest last summer… and the longest she had been away from home was when she was in the sanitorium.

This trip was so exciting and new. Neither she or Patrick had ever traveled by airplane before. Although they left the children behind, they were together. There would not be the loneliness she felt when in the sanitorium. She would not deny that she was missing the children already.

Upon arrival the group dispersed to unpack. Shelagh saw the nurses were assigned to a hut and were marking their arrival with a photograph. She was anxious to see what the conditions of the sleeping quarters would be. She and Patrick were given a room in the building. As were the two men and the nuns. She suspected the Sister Julienne meant to keep the nurses away from Mr. Hereward.

Shelagh realized that other than the night at the rescue center the last time she spent the night under the same roof as Sister Julienne was before she entered the sanatorium...over three years ago.

The first thing she noticed was the room contained two twin beds. Patrick who noticed as well said, "We will just have to push them together."

"Are you sure we should? The nuns…"

"The nuns should not care how we sleep. I need your snoring in my ear to sleep and that can't happen if you're over there."

"I do not snore...You snore."

"Fine if you think your little snorts and whistling sounds are not snoring, but you are right I do snore...I was afraid Tim was going to tell you and then you wouldn't marry me."

"Patrick, you should know your son better than that. Of course he told me, but that could never deter me."

"Come over and help me push this bed."

The bed was heavy, but they managed to move it.

Patrick said, "Well that's done. I almost thought we were going to have to get Fred to come help."

"Fred!" Shelagh said shocked.

"Shelagh...he's a married man. He'd understand.

Shelagh looked at the bed and the gap between the mattresses.

Patrick summed up her thought when he said,"It's not ideal, but it will have to do."

Shelagh unpacked the picture of the children taken at the pensioner's tea last summer just before their camping holiday. She studied and thought about how much Angela had grown since then. Placing it on the table by her bedside, she wondered how much she would grow and change while they were away.

Patrick who had watched her with the photograph said, "They will be fine my love. They will be well cared for."

"What if she forgets about us, Patrick?"

"She won't. Now don't let it worry you. Timothy will be with her. You know how much she adores him."

"Yes, of course they will be together with Granny Parker...and we are here together."

"Let's enjoy this time we have together away from our busy life...Just think I won't be called out at all hours of the night. That alone is a holiday."

"We are here to work."

"Of course. Now let's go have a look around and see what we can do.

"I need to help unpack the supplies. Sister will be wondering what kept me."

"Tell her you were arranging our bed."

"Patrick I will do no such thing."

He just laughed as he put on his clinical coat and headed for the door. Shelagh smiled thinking how happy he was already.


	3. The Friends

Trixie was so excited to be coming home. She had been away in South Africa for too long. She was proud of the work she did there, but was ready to return to the East End and civilization. Funny how compared to Hope Mission the East End was civilized.

Her return was nothing as she had anticipated. Sister Ursula was in charge, Sister Mary Cynthia had had some sort of breakdown and had been sent away. Sent where? Not to the Mother House as she was told. Patsy was gone to Hong Kong and as if all that wasn't enough...Shelagh was in St. Cuthbert's with complications due to pregnancy.

She felt helpless and unable make any of what was not right right again. That did not sit well with Trixie after all she liked to get things done. With her hands tied in so many ways she decided there was one thing she could do.

On her first afternoon off after returning she rode over to St. Cuthbert's for a visit. She remembered visiting Shelagh or rather Sister Bernadette in the sanitorium. It was hard to believe how much had changed. Now Shelagh who thought she could never conceive a child has done just that.

When she entered the ward she saw her lying on her side looking scared and sad. She put on her big Trixie smile and cheer and said, "Hello sweetie! I came as soon as I could."

"Oh Trixie," Shelagh smiled slightly, "I heard you were back."

"Yes, I came home to all sorts of news. Yours quite surprised me...What are the doctors saying?"

Shelagh explained that it was wait and see. She had not had anymore bleeding, but was terribly afraid.

"Shelagh, I can't believe that you are even expecting. After what you were told and you have been married for a long time…"

"I know. It is a miracle," Shelagh responded, but felt rather awkward.

Once she became pregnant her marital activities were no longer private. She felt uncomfortable especially since Trixie had known her for so long.

"How did Timothy take the news?" Trixie asked.

"He was happy, but a wee bit embarrassed by it at first. Now he is worried and he can't come visit."

"I remember when he sent you the dead butterfly."

"Yes, he was so little. Now he is almost completely grown. Tell me about your stay at the mission."

Trixie told her about Dr. Myra's recovery and some of the patients. Shelagh was glad to have the company and the distraction. Trixie had plenty of stories to share.

Just before the end of visiting hours, Patrick rushed onto the ward. When he saw Trixie, he said, "I was feeling terrible that I was delayed. I am so glad you had company."

Trixie took his arrival as her cue to leave. Standing she said, "Shelagh, I will come back soon. I realize I should never have come empty handed. I shall have to send some magazines to help you pass the time."

"Thank you Trixie."

"Of course. Good-bye. She is all yours Dr. Turner."

She breezed out and Shelagh said, "It was nice to see Trixie. She seemed happy about her extended stay in South Africa."

"Well once there was water the conditions weren't so bad," Patrick said, "The bell will be ring any minute now, how are you my love?"

As Trixie peddled back to Nonnatus, she thought of Shelagh being given this miracle and fearing it will be ripped away. She wondered if she had been on the brink of another great joy when tuberculosis took her away...She always wondered when things changed between the doctor and the nun. She had worked in them and never noticed anything, but their competence.

She knows now for sure that he loved her back when they spoke in the old parish hall kitchen...He was hiding it, but the doctor, known for steady hands, couldn't hold a tea cup and spoon.

Time went on and Trixie visited Shelagh when she could. It was easier after she came home to rest. She could pop in and visit a bit and go about her work.

The greatest pleasure was the day, she saw Shelagh working at the surgery again. She looked in full bloom wearing her maternity uniform. Thinking about their years together the changes in their lives and the absolute joy on Shelagh's face brought tears to Trixie's eyes.

"Oh Shelagh! Look at you...you're radiant! It truly is a miracle!"


	4. Anxious

**This came to me after I read** _ **Then Came Heaven**_ **, by Lavyrle Spencer (an American, Catholic turnadette novel) Not sure if this is our turnadette, if it does not line up with your head cannon...I understand...this subject kept me awake at night wondering when I first met and became obsessed with turnadette…...**

It was less than a week before the wedding and Patrick could tell that Shelagh was getting anxious. He on the other hand was excited and impatient and tired of Shelagh leaving every evening.

For weeks they had barely seen each other outside of the hospital. Now Timothy was home and Shelagh was spending time at the flat as she had before Christmas and polio.

Timothy was asleep and Patrick knew Shelagh was uncomfortable being there.

"Shelagh, it's still early no one knows that we are alone. Besides in one week we will be married and this will be your home."

"I know Patrick. It's what I have been waiting for, but the closer it gets…"

"Shelagh, I know you're anxious. Believe me I am a bit nervous myself."

"You are?"

"Yes, but it is the most natural thing in the world. You know that from our work...Still when a married couple is united, it is wonderful, beautiful, full of love."

"I know," she whispered.

"I wish I could take you show you now that there is nothing to be afraid of." Her eyes widened and he continued, "but if I did that it would mean that I do not know you or love you at all."

"I wish the uncertainty was over too...It is just that my vow of chastity was very complex. It was forbade carnal knowledge, it was also in the way I wore the habit, and even what was allowed when I was alone. It had been years since I had even been unclothed. The idea of being unclothed for another was unthinkable for so very long."

"I could say that I am a doctor, but we both know that is the same. I will never look at a patient the way I want to look at you, my love. Just as in your work as a midwife and nurse, you saw others uncovered areas which never compromised your vow."

"No," she said quietly.

"I will promise you that in a fortnight you will feel much different about everything."

"We shall see."

They continued to quietly sit for awhile, Patrick holding both her hands as he so often did. He noticed she seemed as if she were going to speak a number of times, but kept stopping herself.

Finally he said, "What is it? You can ask me anything."

"I am not sure I can...how...how often is expected?" she was looking down as she spoke.

Patrick wanted to laugh at her question and her naivety and innocence, but knew she would be hurt.

"There is no one answer. We will find that answer together. We have considerations...Timothy, my call outs. What is right at first may not be right later. What I can promise you is it will always be a mutual decision."

"So…"

He did laugh and said,"Let's talk about this again after a few days of marriage. Now the soon to be Mrs. Turner, I need to get you home."

He drove her to her lodging and kissed her hand as he often did. Although he longed to kiss her deeply, he knew that after such a vulnerable conversation it could scare her.

Laying in bed alone. He counted the lonely nights he had left. Thinking of her he drifted off to sleep with a smile.


	5. The Men

Night had fallen at Hope Mission. Their work there was coming to an end. Patrick was feeling pleased with the help he had provided especially to Dr. Myra and Matthias. Tom was now engaged to be married. The pipes would soon be connected to the new fresh water source leaving their mark here for the future.

Fred was ready to return home, he missed Violet. He was thinking of his wife as he found himself enjoying the evening at the porch railing with the reverend and the doctor.

"We should be giving the Reverend marriage advice, aye doc," Fred said.

Patrick laughed, "Don't scare him."

"Scare him...I'm a fine husband. My Vi is as happy as can be."

"I am sure she is Fred," Tom said slightly embarrassed by what he could have in mind for advice.

"You and the misses are on a little second honeymoon eh doc," Fred added.

"If you call this luxury a honeymoon, but since we never really had a first one, it can't be a second one."

"It is hard to believe not long ago she was one of 'em," Fred said.

"One of who?" Tom asked.

"I often forget there are people in Poplar who don't know," Patrick said.

"Tongues were wagging at first, but everyone has too much respect for you, doc. I think they all just forgot."

"Forgot what? Fred, what are you talking about?" Tom asked impatient.

"Fred, you go ahead and fill him in. I'm going in, my wife is waiting for me. Good night ," Patrick laughed.

"Good night doc," Fred said.

Tom looked at Fred and said, "Fred?"

"You really don't know a thing about Mrs. Turner?"

"What is there to know? She is a wife and a mother and a nurse…"

"Did you know that the doc's first, Timothy mum, died a number of years back?"

"Yes, I heard something about Timothy being her stepson when they adopted their baby girl."

"Well before Mrs. Turner married the doc she was a midwife at Nonnatus House."

"So that's how they met. Just like me and Barbara."

"Except unlike Nurse Gilbert, she wasn't a nurse...she was a nun."

Tom laughed then looked at Fred and said, "You're not joking?"

"Nope. She was Sister Julienne's right hand. Ran things when Sister wasn't there."

"How'd it happen?"

"Nobody really knows, but now it just seems right. Doesn't it?"

"Yes, it certainly does."

The two men stood quietly enjoying the slight breeze for awhile. Tom thought about his own love life. First with Trixie and then finding Barbara, his perfect match. Fred thought that like the doc, he lost his love and found another who had been there all along…

Meanwhile when Patrick entered the room that he was sharing with Shelagh, he was chuckling.

"What is so funny, Dear?"

"I was just outside with the other men."

"Oh."

"If Mr. Hereward looks at you funny tomorrow it's my fault."

"Why would he do that!"

"Well the subject of marriage came up and apparently the reverend did know about your...um….past."

"Oh...did you fill him in?"

"No, I left and told Fred to."

"Patrick! You didn't!"

"I did," he laughed, "Doesn't seem like such a good idea now. Although really what can he say to make it sound more sensational than it was."

"Sensational was it."

"It's been sensational for me...every moment I spend with you, my love."

"Patrick," she blushed.

Tom lay in bed thinking of what he had learned about Mrs. Turner. He had never spent much time with religious sisters until he came to Poplar. He was aware of the freedoms that his ordained life allowed him compared to those of the sisters.

It occurred to him that Mrs. Turner was a woman of great faith he had witnessed it in church. He also knew she would join the sisters for Compline occasionally which made sense to him now.

He imagined that the decision she made to leave the order must have been truly difficult. He knew that when he loved a girl who was not cut out to be a curate's wife, he was not willing to give up being a curate.

He went to sleep that night thinking about how profound that Turner's love must be. He hopes that he and Barbara will have a marriage like theirs.


	6. Patrick's Secret Love

Patrick felt so alone. With Timothy asleep it was so very quiet. What he wanted to do was write another letter. What he should do is go to bed. What he did was walk around tidying. How can one boy leave such a trail? He was responsible for some of it...the full ashtray, the read newspaper on the table, the tea cup by the sofa where he sat earlier…

Looking to see if all was in order, he assessed the room. It seemed dead when it used to be so full of life...full of music. With Marianne when he came home there was always music...either she was finishing a lesson with a student, playing piano herself or the record player spinning a favorite song...Now the only music was when Timothy practiced and without his mother that seemed sad as well.

Music made him think of the real reason for his loneliness...hopelessness...Sister Bernadette. At first he did not know who was responsible for the beautiful solos he had heard coming from the chapel at Nonnatus House. One evening he had stopped as he often did to deliver notes about a patient when he turned his head towards the sound of the singing. Nurse Miller commented on what a beautiful voice Sister Bernadette had…"Indeed" was the only response he could think of.

Now the voice haunted his dreams as did the blue eyes, as blue as the sky on a sunny day. How he missed music and the sound of her voice and her…

He wandered over to the record player. Shifting through the many records hoping to find one that would take away the loneliness. So many memories were surfaced just looking at the many songs.

Shifting through one caught his eye. It was from a movie that they had seen years earlier. Marianne loved Doris Day and begged him to take an afternoon off to take her. They left Timothy who was only three or four at the time with Granny Parker.

She loved the movie and the music. Shortly after she purchased the record of her favorite song...Secret Love. Patrick had forgotten all about it, because in time other songs replaced it. Looking at it now, he tried to recall the words and realized immediately they had a whole new meaning to him.

Removing the vinyl from its sleeve, he put it on. Soft music filled the room, as he listened to the words, his heart swelled.

'Once I had a secret love

That lived within the heart of me…'

Oh how true that was...what could be more secret than being in love with a religious sister...and that was exactly what he was...unmistakably in love.

'...So I told a friendly star

The way that dreamers often do

Just how wonderful you are

And why I'm so in love with you'

He wanted to tell a star...he want to tell someone, but he couldn't. He had already acted foolish in front of Nurse Franklin...dropping his spoon and saying 'tickety boo.'

The one person he wanted to tell, was the one he loved. Instead he again resisted the urge to write another letter and sat in the dark listening to the song over and over smoking until his eyes were blurry from tiredness and perhaps tears.

In the morning, Timothy said, "I heard one of Mummy's songs last night."

"Yes, it was quite quiet so I listened to some music."

"Did it help you to feel better?"

"Maybe a bit...I'm not sure," mustering energy he said, "alright young man time to get off to school."


	7. Want and Need

"If you can't tell me what you want, then tell me what you need."

"Very well …" and she listed items that would help during clinic...new screens, a hot water heater, and then there were the spirit lamps...so fragile.

What was fragile was the moment when he was looking into her eyes...looking at each other in a way neither of them should. The moment broken by the arrival of his son. As father and son left she stood staring down at the spirit lamps.

"If you can't tell me what you want, then tell me what you need…" She repeated in her mind...want and need had always been so clear in her mind. For so long since taking her religious vows, she had no wants and her needs were few. She needed nourishment both of body and soul and her community at Nonnatus House provided both.

The last 'want' that she remembered having was her want to go to nursing school in London. Even her decision to take holy orders was in her mind a need, a very spiritual calling.

Recently with all her needs met, she has been feeling restless. It started small...perhaps more like a wonder. Hearing the nurses giggling...a wonder as to how it would feel to be part of it. Bringing tea to doctor and a wonder of what it would be like to sit and take tea with him.

Over time the wonder grew into a longing…A longing to mother a lonely child. A longing to look into those compassionate eyes. A longing for the scent of Henleys and for the feel his touch.

Today in the Community Centre kitchen, she felt more than a longing...a 'want.' She wanted to keep looking into his eyes. She wanted him not to be called away. She wanted to see Timothy happy and smile every day. She wanted...

"If you can't tell me what you want, then tell me what you need…" She felt a loss as they both walked away and she was left alone. She thought miserably to herself...What I want is for you to love me...What I need is you.


	8. The Visitor

**This was previously published separately but belongs as a "What if." I was watching S2#7 again for the nth time and when Sister Bernadette asked for a visitor my mind went to the same thought I had the first time I watched...Patrick. So I realize I needed to write a little AU story about the visitor.**

"I come to the conclusion that is either the dullest man on earth or the most exciting one," Nurse Peters pauses to take Sister's pulse and continued, "Perhaps we should just return to sender..save the poor man his postage….unrewardingly normal," she added as she read the thermometer.

"I think I would like to arrange for a visitor. May I use the telephone?"

"I will dial the number myself," Nurse smiled.

"Thank you, but I think I can quite manage on my own," Sister replied.

As she approached the telephone, she was not entirely certain what she would say. She could feel butterflies in her stomach...butterflies were dainty perhaps what she was feeling would be better described as frogs jumping. She noticed her hand shaking as she reached for the receiver. Even in the most extreme situations her hands have always been steady and sure, but this was unlike anything she had ever done before.

She felt lightheaded as she heard the call connect and ring. It was possible that no one would answer.

"Turner here."

He answered...was this what she wanted or her greatest fear?

"Hello, " he spoke again, "Can I help you?"

"Dr. Turner...I...I was wondering if you could make time to come to Saint Anne's," she could hear the nervousness in her own voice as she spoke.

After a pause, he responded, "of course," shocked by the phone call he continued, "I will make time after surgery this afternoon unless an emergency prevents it."

"Thank you Doctor."

With that she hung up and he was left staring at the receiver in his hand. She called. What could she want? Had she read his letters? How was he going to be able to keep a clear mind and treat his patients when all he could think about was the fact that he was going to see her.

Her nervousness did not subside after the phone call. Instead it grew in intensity. Perhaps it was finally time to read his letters. She wondered if she had been too impulsive. One moment she was just sitting as confused as before, the next moment Nurse Peters was calling him either the dullest or most exciting man and all she could think of was that he was perfect. She was so tired of thinking about what she wanted from life and it was time to go after it.

Reading his letters confirmed that he had missed her as much as she had missed him. It also allowed the time to pass although it did not help her nervousness to subside.

It took him longer than he had hoped to break away from the surgery. He had to keep himself in control as he was driving. After weeks of nothing he never expected a phone call. All he wanted was to see her and discover the reason she requested a visit. He knew from the bits and pieces he got from others that she was doing well medically so he knew that must not be the reason for the visit. As she had doctors in the sanitorium she should not need him medically.

She heard him coming towards her before she saw him. Nurse Peters was showing him in and he was responding politely to her chattering.

When he turned the corner to where she was sitting he stopped and took the vision of her in. He had almost forgotten how tiny she was or perhaps she looked smaller in a robe rather than habit.

"Hello Sister," he said as he approached her.

"Thank you for coming doctor," she responded. She was afraid Nurse Peters would stay, but she quietly left after witnessing their exchange.

"I sent you letters...I did not know if you read them," he confessed.

"Only just...I had thought for a long time that I was living the wrong life. I had trouble seeing what God's plan is for me. It is becoming clearer now," she said tentatively without looking up.

Shocked by her words he dared to ask, "Does that plan include me?"

"I think so...only if…"

"Yes...of course...I will accept whatever you are able to give."

Nurse Peters approach and asked, "Can I bring your visitor a cup of tea?"

He responded quite quickly, "Thank you, no. I can't stay long."

After the nurse left she finally looked up at him and said, "I am sorry...you are busy."

"Not too busy for you," he respond looking directly into her eyes that were as blue as the country sky, "what were you saying before…."

"I know I want a life beyond Nonnatus. I am not sure what it will be. It depends on…"

"On me?" he interrupted.

"Yes," she answered quietly but was still looking directly at him.

"What do you need to do?"

"I need to speak to Sister Julienne and I will need to make arrangements for after I am discharged."

"Do you know how soon that will be?" he asked.

She shook her head and added, "Perhaps a week or two."

"I will arrange to be here whenever it is...I do not even know your name."

"It's Shelagh," she smiled as she spoke her given name for the first time in years.

"Patrick...I wish I could stay, but I really must get on. You will call me when you know what day you are being discharged," she nodded and he added, " in the meanwhile I'll see if I can arrange for a place for you to stay."

She just nodded and looked at him with those amazing eyes as if to say 'please don't go.'

He wanted to reach for her hand, but knew it was improper.

"I sorry. I really have to go," he said as he turned to leave.

Sister sat for a long time and stared. She knew not what lie ahead for her, but the frogs had vacated her belly.

Patrick barely remembered the drive home. He could not believe his good fortune. He would need to stop daydreaming and get on. Things were too busy for him to be lollygagging, besides people would talk.

The time went by slowly for both. Sister called Sister Julienne. They walked through the garden and she told her how she wanted other things that she can't have at Nonnantus.

On the day she was to be discharged she dressed in the suit she wore the day she arrived at Nonnatus House over ten years ago. She wanted desperately to leave, but she had to wait for Dr. Tur...Patrick to arrive. She was still getting used to thinking of him as Patrick.

Patrick was finally able to leave for the sanitorium and found Timothy waiting in the car. He explained that he was not going on his rounds and that he was going to fetch Sister Bernadette from the sanatorium.

"Splendid!" Timothy exclaimed.

Patrick was surprised that he had not heard rumors of changes with Sister Bernadette. He wondered what those at Nonnatus knew. He decided that he had to tell Tim something though.

When they arrived, he told Tim to stay in the car and he went in to get her.

She was waiting for him. When she stood and he saw her with street clothes on it took his breath away.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and he added, " Timothy is in the car."

She smiled.

As they were walking to the car she said, "I know you so little but I couldn't be more certain."

He responded, "I am completely certain."

He opened the door and took her hand as he helped her into the car. They both felt an electrical jolt and there was no mistaking that they were meant to be together.


	9. Have I Changed?

**Previously published as separate story. Missing scenes from S5e7.**

"Patrick have I changed," Shelagh asked as she looked up from her book.

"What my love?" Patrick looked up from _The Lancet_.

It was getting late on a Tuesday evening and they were in the sitting room each in their own chair. The house was quiet as both the children were in bed. They had been to Nonnatus House that evening discussing the new contraceptive pill. Shelagh had been thinking about Sister Julienne's comments, both when they met at the surgery and again this evening.

Shelagh repeated her question. Patrick put down the paper and sat up to look directly at his wife. "Everyone changes with time. You are living an entirely different life, but you are still the same caring woman that I fell in love with. You dress better now," he winked at her.

"Patrick," Shelagh said, "I was thinking of Sister Julienne. She seemed angry with me earlier and again this evening."

"Shelagh," Patrick responded as he reached over and took her hand in his, "If Sister Julienne is angry with anyone, it's me for wanting to prescribed to unmarried woman."

"When she refused the lemon puff, I felt like she was telling me I was disappointing her."

"Sister Julienne is troubled by this latest change in the world not by you. Besides I have been offered a lemon puff at Nonnatus House. Do not fret over it," Patrick reassured her by kissing the hand he was holding.

Shelagh was not convinced and asked, "How would Sister Bernadette feel about this change?"

Patrick smiled, but realized that she was serious and answered, "Sister Bernadette fought for the good of Poplar. I remember the day she fought to bring the x-ray van for the first time."

"Patrick, " she smiled.

"Did not Sister Bernadette try to get all the girls on Cable Street to use sheaths long before Sister Winifred? I think Sister Bernadette saw a problem and worked to fix it. She's an awful lot like my wife."

"Patrick," she smiled. He always made her smile even when she was concerned. "I was thinking that if this pill was available a few years ago there may have been no Angela."

"Shelagh don't think like that. We are all worked up about this and the government hasn't issued guidelines yet. We are focused on unmarried women, but just think of all the married women it will help. That reminds me of one way that you are different than Sister Bernadette," he smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

"Patrick! Sometimes I wonder if Sister Julienne would approve if she knew…"

"Shelagh," Patrick cut her off, "Sister knows what happens in the marriage bed. She is concerned with the morality of encouraging unmarried couples to engage in relations. We should be glad we are Anglican and have family planning, in Ireland all birth control is illegal."

"I still feel like she was disappointed in me."

"I'm sure all will be forgotten. I know how to take your mind off of all this," Patrick winked.

"Patrick! It is late and we both have to get up early," Shelagh smiled.

"I know, but all this talk of relations... besides I want to see for myself just how different you are from Sister Bernadette."

Shelagh smiled, "We need to be quiet. We don't want to wake the children."

Together they climbed the stairs hand in hand.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shelagh had seen Sister Julienne at clinic on Thursday, but they were both too busy for Shelagh to start a conversation. On Saturday, Shelagh took Angela to see Sister Evangelina who had just returned from the silent order. She was shocked to see her clearly impaired from a stroke, but didn't dare mention it. Whilst Sister Evangelina and Angela visited, Shelagh went in search of Sister Julienne.

As expected she found her in her office. Knocking Shelagh waited to be invited in and thought of the times she waited there as Sister Bernadette.

"Shelagh! I didn't realize you were here," Sister smiled as she greeted her.

"Angela and I came to welcome Sister Evangelina home."

"How nice. I will have go see that daring girl."

"Sister might I have a word with you first," Shelagh asked.

"Of course."

Shelagh started, "I feel as though I may have disappointed you this week."

"Oh Shelagh," she sighed. "This has been a difficult week. I felt as though I was the only one concerned about the moral implications of this new development."

"Sister do you think I would have thought differently if I were still Sister Bernadette? "

"Oh I'm not sure. I know you cared a lot about social issues," she answered.

"That's what Patrick said too."

"I do not deny that this will make a big difference for married women. We have seen women with too many mouths to feed expecting again and again, and then there are the surprises that come to older women when pregnancy is less safe." She continued, "You have not been a sister for awhile and you see the world differently now that you are a wife and a mother. It just seemed that I was the only one in the room who seemed concerned about the moral effect of this for unmarried women."

"Sister, I understand your concerns. Patrick thought I was overthinking it, but I started to think if this pill had been around a few years ago Angela might not have been conceived."

"There is a concern that sometimes God has a plan even if it doesn't seemed that way at first. You of all people should know that. Some young girl's mistake was a great gift to you...to all of us. Let's go see that little girl and forget about all this business."

Shelagh smiled, "Yes sister."


	10. Prayers

**Just a quick story from S6#3. This story assumes that at almost 20 weeks Shelagh's pregnancy is known to all at Nonnatus House**.

It was a happy day at Nonnatus House, Trixie had returned from South Africa, the maternity home was not closing anytime soon and Sister Ursula had retreated to the Mother House in Chichester. They were celebrating together at tea with some of Mrs. B's delicious creations.

However Phyllis knew all was not well with the Nonnatus family. Phyllis knew she needed to tell Sister Julienne about Shelagh Turner, but she didn't want to spoil the celebration. When she returned from the maternity home, tea was being laid out.

As soon as Sister Julienne left the table, Phyllis followed her. "Might I have a word in private, Sister Julienne," she asked from behind.

Turning around Sister responded, "Of course."

"Mrs. Turner called earlier asking me to drive her to Saint Cuthbert's. It seems as if she was experiencing some bleeding."

"Oh no! Did you drive her?"

"No, Dr. Turner did and I finished with the inspector."

"Oh no not again."

"Again? I wasn't aware of any other complications."

"Oh no, I was remembering another time."

"I did not know if I should be telling the others."

"Shelagh is one of our maternity patients and one of our family, they will need to know. First I will make some telephone calls to see if I can find out more about Shelagh's situation."

Sister called Saint Cuthbert's and learned that she had been admitted for bedrest. She was slightly relieved as that meant she was still carrying.

She rang the Turner home. Mrs. Penney answered and she had no additional information. Sister requested that Dr. Turner call Nonnatus House at upon his return.

Patrick returned home and hugged his children. He explained the situation to Timothy as best he could while Mrs. Penney put Angela to bed. He knew he could not delay in calling Sister Julienne if he were to reach her before the great silence.

Sister Julienne listened as he explained, "We do not know if she will keep the baby. For now the bleeding has stopped which is the best we can hope for. It is a waiting game."

"I am so so very sorry. I will keep Shelagh and her baby in our prayer..all of you."

"Thank you Sister."

"Remember she has been down dark roads before and came out into sunshine. The sun will shine on you again. I know it."

"I hope you are right Sister."

"Let us know how we can help."

"Thank you, Sister. Good night."

Before she could say 'good night' he had hung up.

She had just enough time to update the staff before Compline. Then she would prayer with all her strength for Shelagh to be spared from more sorrow.


	11. Bri-Nylon

**Previously published as separate story. Missing scenes from CS2016.**

Shelagh Turner had very little time to prepare for her trip to South Africa. She was entirely certain that the clothing she needed would not be available in the stores the first of January. Nonetheless she was able to take a few hours on Saturday morning to visit Selfridge's.

She really wanted to purchase a swimsuit for herself. Sometimes she had to remind herself that she had the life now where a swimsuit was even a consideration.

Entering the department store she quickly passed through the beauty department and went towards women's clothing. All the mannequin were dressed in jumpers and coats all for winter and she was concerned that this would be a wasted trip. More importantly she would be wasting the precious little free time she had to spend with the children.

She really surprised even herself that she was willing to leave them for over four weeks. A few years ago she hated the idea of leaving them for an evening. She trusted that Granny Parker would care for them and was so thankful that Timothy's grandmother had accepted his sister and step mother into her family. She was quite remarkable.

Discouraged Shelagh found a sales woman to inquire about warmer weather clothing.

"Oh you are looking for the cruisewear section."

"Oh. Cruisewear!" Shelagh thought she had never heard of such a thing as that.

The section was not large, but it had summer dresses and more important swimwear. Shelagh searched the rack for modest suits that she would feel comfortable wearing in front of the others.

In the dressing room she tried on a pretty pink one, but it had too many ruffles that just made her look like ridiculous. Next she tried an orange one that was just too bright. She felt like a Christmas orange. The last she tried was a rather plain green striped suit. The cut was modest and Shelagh decided it was perfect.

The saleswoman asked where she was traveling to and when Shelagh answered the saleswoman insisted she look at other items for a colonial climate.

"What other things do you suggest?"

"We have a new line of sleepwear made out of Bri-Nylon."

"Nylon?"

"Yes its light material is cool and you can rinse it out and let it drip dry."

"Oh perhaps I should look at a nylon gown."

"Bri-Nylon."

As Shelagh looked through the rack she realized that it would be the first time she and Patrick will be away without the children. Unlike the swimsuit which she will wear in front of the other, the nightgown will be for Patrick's eyes only.

She chose a green set that was shorter than any gown she had ever owned. It also had frilly ruffles, but Shelagh thought they were better for a gown than a swimsuit.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shelagh knew Patrick was surprised to see the new nightgown. They had been talking of the conditions of Hope Mission, but when Patrick saw her he changed the subject to her attire. She explained the material just as the saleswoman explained to her, "Perfect for a colonial climate." as she climbed in bed.

Patrick grinning responded, "Absolutely."

He put down his notebook and turned towards Shelagh and reached over and felt the ruffle at her neck between his thumb and forefinger. "Smooth and soft. I like this nylon."

"Patrick," she giggled.

"Shelagh there are no children, but are we far enough from the nuns?"

"I think so. We have plenty of privacy," she smiled and snuggled in towards Patrick. Feeling the crack where the two bed met, she added "This bed is what we need to worry about. We may end up on the floor if this crack opens up."

"Move over to my bed to be safe," Patrick said as he made room for her next to him. "My colonial wife," he whispered as his hands took in more of the smooth soft fabric and he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss started soft, but as Shelagh responded it grew more passionate. In order to fit better on the single bed he pulled his wife on top of him. This was new for them, but bold, colonial Shelagh knew just what to do.

When they woke the next morning they were each on their own twin bed and the Bri-Nylon was on the floor next to Patrick's pyjamas. Shelagh reached across and put her hand on his chest. "Good morning," she said with a smile.

"Good morning love." Looking down at her hand playing with his chest hair, "Don't start Colonial wife we have a busy day ahead."

Shelagh laughed and got out of bed as Patrick watched her in all her God given beauty and smiled.

Later that morning Patrick looked over at Shelagh as he drove the truck smiling he thought to himself, we may be missionaries but there was nothing "missionary" about last night. He continued smiled throughout the long, hot day.


	12. The Matter of Faith

**Published previously as single story. Patrick POV about faith.**

Patrick Turner was quick to profess himself as a man without faith. He was afterall a man of science. Although faith was no help to him as he went about much of his work, there were times when he thought it just might be helpful.

Growing up in Liverpool, he attended church with his family, but as a child he did not ever pay attention. He let his mind wander. Perhaps his only real childhood memories of the time he spent at church was the music. He always enjoyed music and the social events. Everything seemed to happen through church...the friends he had; the fetes they attended; the gatherings of any kind. So church was a part of his life, but the faith aspect of it was not.

During the war stationed near the front watching young man after young man die and feeling so helpless, faith was nowhere to be found. After the war recovering from war neurosis at Northfield Military Hospital, he saw other use faith to heal, but he drew his strength from his personal calling...medicine. In the simple act of bathing a baby, he found purpose and hope of new life.

Returning to life and the practice of medicine, he found love. He had the love of his work where his knowledge and skill to him was much more powerful than any faith. He also met and married Marianne not long after returning to life. Like so many couples their courtship was quick and within a year of meeting they were married and not long after had a baby on the way.

When Timothy was born and Sister Evangelina placed his newborn in his arms he felt love, but did not think about any higher power's role in the event.

Working with the sister of Nonnatus, he was surrounded by faith. He focused his days on the medical and social aspects of ministering to his patients and left the prayer to them.

He remembered the first time he interrupted Compline at Nonnatus and heard Sister Bernadette sing. He was amazed at her singing voice. While others would attribute such a gift to a higher power, Patrick did not.

As a family, he attended church with his wife and son. They participated in social events and were members of the All Saint's congregation. However when others were praying he was thinking about whatever patient or medical issue was on his mind that day. Just like as a child, he did enjoy the music and would join in and sing.

If ever he were to draw from faith in his life, it would be when Marianne was diagnosed with cancer and dying. He found comfort in the fact that those around him had faith...the sisters...his mother-in-law. His role was as her husband, comforter and caregiver. He focused his anger on medicine and the lack of research and treatment for cancer. It was the thing that everyone feared most and no amount of faith could change that.

A lack of faith did not mean he had a lack of love and compassion. He was not lacking there, but because of his knowledge of medicine, he rationalized death in a more pragmatic way. Not that this made becoming a widow and only parent to his young son any easier. It took time, but slowly they started to get through each day. Timothy came into his bed less and less and he immersed himself in his work. The sisters were always there to lend support and help as he and Timothy moved on the best they could. He knew the sisters prayed for them, but did not know what effect that had, if any, on their healing process.

After the horribly unfortunate and sad cot death of the Kelly baby, Patrick discussed faith briefly with Sister Bernadette. Patrick wished that he had some of her faith and she replied that it did not make a difference. He himself had lost his wife, but contemplating the pain of the Kelly's losing a child was something he could not imagine.

By summer of that year, he began thinking about faith more and more. He was not finding his faith, but rather he found himself competing with another's. Suddenly faith was the barrier that was keeping him from what he wanted most. He had fallen in love with Sister Bernadette and because of her vows and her faith, he could not have her. He felt he needed to respect her faith, but found it bloody difficult.

The day she called him from the sanitorium was an amazing day. He never dared to say what he was thinking out loud, but to him he had won. She chose him over her vows... over her faith. It did not take long for Patrick to realize that Shelagh never abandoned her faith. She followed her faith to her new life and role as wife and mother.

Being married to Shelagh, he could not pretend that faith did not exist...he saw hers in everything she did, every day. Perhaps just maybe there were little cracks happening and Patrick was feeling in his heart just a little of the force that directs his beloved through her life. When he holds his wife and looks into her eyes, he thinks faith is a marvelous thing indeed.


	13. Unexpectedly Expecting

**NOTE: Given the lack of information (or conflicting information) on Shelagh's dates, this assumes what smcgann said in an interview is true...the bri-nylon and Africa are responsible for the miracle conception.**

Shelagh was not sure when she started to realize she might be expecting. As her 'Cape Town Tummy' persisted, she found herself thinking odd thoughts like…'I wonder if this is what expecting would feel like.' or 'If I didn't know better, I would think I'm pregnant.'

After her procedure on Harley Street, she stopped paying attention to her cycles...When one came, she no longer marked it in her diary.

She was quite disappointed when she had her cycle in South Africa. With the lack of sanitary conditions, she would have preferred her irregularity had stayed irregular until she returned home. Typically she made an effort to keep things private, even from Patrick, but at Hope Mission, it was impossible.

Luckily she had packed a few 'just in case' napkins. She did have to brave the goats for another trip into town. She considered asking the nurses or Sister Winifred for some spare supplies, but although they were all nurses, she felt awkward.

She remembered that before tuberculosis, she felt a kinship to the young nurses as she was the only menstruating nun at Nonnatus House. Her other sisters were well beyond the change of life. Now as a wife, things just seemed different somehow.

Luckily even before her illness, her cycle were never particularly heavy and rather short. She breathed a sigh of relief when things tapered off in South Africa and she assumed that for the rest of their stay she would be free and clear.

What she later realized was that she ovulated following that last cycle...but she had paid no heed to the fact that another one did not start...Except she did think one was soon to be starting. She noticed her breast were tender which she often identified as a warning sign to be prepared.

Still she was preoccupied with other things...settling in at home, the children who she had missed immensely, Sister Ursula's presence and her lingering tummy trouble.

Between the horrible water quality and the food that was so different from their English diet, they all had tummy trouble except for Fred...Patrick was only mildly affected. The subject of why the men fared so well was a common one. Perhaps the war had trained their stomachs. It was common knowledge that Fred could and would eat just about anything. Shelagh thought perhaps all the fish and chips Patrick ate as a widower fortified his gut. Once too often the conversation ended with a sad, but amusing comment that Sister Evangelina would have been the only woman not to be bothered.

After awhile home and Shelagh noticed that her tummy seemed to getting worse not better. She was consuming large amounts of Rennies just to get through the day...She considered mentioning her concerns to Patrick, but he was so busy himself getting back to his practice after being away so long.

One morning, she found herself in the bathroom after just one sip of tea. The following morning was the same. The third morning her thoughts of 'I wonder…' and 'If I didn't know better…' had changed to 'I couldn't be' and 'Oh God, I think I am.'

It was on this morning that Sister Winifred found her in the kitchen. She did not mean to be sharp with her. Truthfully she was thankful that she had taken care of the surgery...Shelagh had been trying to calm her belly and understand the realization that by some miracle she had conceived a child.

A child that was created out of her's and Patrick's love for one another. A child never thought possible...a miracle. Still this miracle required lots of time before it would be ready for the world. Her body, she, would need to shelter her child and keep it safe. Was her body prepared for that? Mr. Horringer explained that the scarring was in her ovaries and fallopian tubes so there was no reason to be concerned about carrying. Still as a midwife she knew of all the things that could go wrong and being a primigravida at her age...no she would not use the other word...was not without risks.

She longed for and prayed for a baby and suddenly, she was so afraid...What if something went wrong? What if Patrick did not want another child. After Angela, they never thought about adding to their family. Would he feel too old to be having another baby? So many questions cluttered her brain.

She remembered having to ask Patrick to sign for the test when she thought she was pregnant before. The difference then was she had doubts based on how she felt. Deep down she knew she was only confirming the negative...Today she did not feel the need for a test. Her symptoms left no doubt. A test would certainly be positive, but she was not ready to tell Patrick.

She knew her reasons for keeping this realization to herself were foolish and predominantly fear. Patrick once said, "When you do tell me, you just watch my face." Shelagh knew that when she was ready to tell him, she would do just that.


	14. Patrick's Despair

**POV from S3 ep. 7 and 8**

Patrick didn't know how to make things right. He had ruined the interview with the adoption agency and most likely their chance to adopt a child.

How could he live knowing he took away Shelagh chance for happiness? She had given up her religious life to be his wife and a mother...She mourned when she found out she couldn't conceive a child...Now a new dream has been shattered.

He wanted a baby too...He had hoped to create a child with Shelagh. He remembered when she approached him with the pregnancy test. He was thrilled and then disappointed when the negative result came through.

Initially the idea of adoption sounded like the solution they were looking for. Shelagh was happy and so very determined. When he saw the mountain of forms and the detailed questions he tried to put it off. The determined woman that he fell in love with would not hear of it.

If only he could have confided in Shelagh about his breakdown, things would have turned out different. He never spoke of it...not to anyone. He never told Marianne and he had not been out of Northfield for very long when he met her. She wasn't concerned that he didn't speak of the war...Nobody did...Everyone was still healing one way or another.

Everyday he woke and dreaded having to see Shelagh's disappointed face. After the results from the Harley Street procedure, he was able to comfort Shelagh. He told her that they would find another way. Shelagh did find a way ahead and he ruined it. How could he comfort her now?

He felt like he had a fog in his brain. He functioned and went about his work, but the overall gloom persisted. She once told him that she was never alone, because she was married to him. He knew she felt alone. He found himself glad to be called out in the evening to avoid the silence he had created.

So much had changed after he found Shelagh. He had discovered the woman hidden in the habit. She opened up a whole new life for him. A life of hope and love. Until that dreaded interview a life with a promising future. So many dreams had come true with Shelagh, but he did not know how to move forward and repair the damage.

When the letter came in the post he was afraid that his worst fear would be realized. He could not even read the paper in his hands...When Shelagh read the words that they had been approved for adoption, he was in shock. When she said that she wasn't sure that they had a happy home, his heart nearly broke. He knew he was responsible for making his wife feel so unhappy.

Shelagh had been trying, but he rebuked her at every turn. She offered to get his coat from the cleaners, he insisted he didn't need it. Why could he not let her do that favor...favor?...It was really just a typical errand that a wife would do. Marianne had picked up his coat at the start of the winter then when she was sick he had to make time to get it himself. The following spring he hadn't even bothered to send it in. All Shelagh wanted was to be his wife and he would not let her.

He knew he should be happy about the adoption, but he had hurt Shelagh and he did not know how to repair that. He had to carry on with his day...He had calls to make and patients to see. One of his stops was to the Noakes's house to see Lady Browne. When she demanded honesty from him, he answered her. When she asked him why nobody could say the name of the disease, he told her it was 'the thing that we fear the most.'

Leaving Lady Browne, he could think of nothing, but his own words. He knew that fear...He remember when they discovered that Marianne had cancer. Their entire world was suddenly turned upside down. One day they were living life and then they were saying 'goodbye.'

...What we fear the most...Fear...He was consumed with fear...This morning he feared s denial from the agency. Now he feared losing another wife, not through illness but because of more fear. It was another fear that was keeping him from opening up and telling Shelagh about his war neurosis. He feared she would find him weak and not love him. He knew that he could not go on the way he was...he loved her too much, he needed her too much. He never dreamed that he could ever love the way he loved Shelagh.

If Shelagh loved him half as much as he loved her, they would find a way ahead. Making his tea he looked through to her doing the mending. He knew all he had to do was make a start…

"I can remember you sewing a baby's nightdress in that chair"...


	15. Accomplished Midwife

**Exactly when did Nurse Crane really understand...**

Shelagh

Shelagh was tired of Nurse Crane's comments. Shelagh had grown accustom to being treated with a certain amount of respect. First as Sister Bernadette and later as Mrs. Turner. She found that being the wife of a dedicated doctor like Patrick earned her quite a bit of respect regardless of her past.

She took pride in her role at the surgery and her administration at the clinic. Only Nurse Crane seemed to find her less than useful. Her comments hurt worse given that Shelagh had been a nurse and midwife for ten years.

The night that Sister Monica Joan arrived at the surgery with a laboring Mrs. Bowe, Shelagh took a few moments to get a grasp of the situation and then went to work as she had done countless times prior to her tuberculosis diagnosis and subsequent life decisions.

Sister Monica Joan proved to be a very encouraging assistant, she also had the wherewithal to communicate with Shelagh about the meconium in Mrs. Bowe's waters.

When finished, Shelagh telephoned Nonnatus House and told Sister Julienne about the delivery. She also arranged for Nurse Crane to fetch Sister and return her home drier than when she arrived.

Patrick who had been called out to two other deliveries was still not home, when Shelagh fell asleep.

Sister Julienne

Sister met Nurse Crane at the door as she arrived at Nonnatus House and asked, "Nurse Crane, could you please go to Dr. Turner's surgery. Sister Monica Joan needs a ride home. She was forced to help Mrs. Bowe as we were without any available midwives."

"Sister Monica Joan?"

"No need to fret Mrs. Turner was available."

"Mrs. Turner!" Nurse Crane muttered as she went back out into the rain.

Sister was secretly pleased events led Shelagh to deliver Mrs. Bowe's baby. She had been hoping that Shelagh would return to midwifery and perhaps tonight would help her realise that she missed the work.

Shelagh

The next day, Shelagh asked Patrick about his busy night. He told her in detail about Bridget Cole's baby and Mrs. Robbins retained placenta.

"I'm glad the baby is going to be alright. Patrick, I had an exciting evening myself."

"Oh…"

"Sister Monica Joan arrived with Mrs. Bowe. Apparently everyone was called out. I delivered her baby. When Nurse Crane came for Sister, she commented that we were lucky all was well. Her comments bothered me."

"I for one am glad you were there. How did it go?"

"Other than meconium, it was very routine...The perineum was intact and there was minimal blood loss. Patrick I was so nervous. I still can't believe I did it."

Patrick responded that he could believe it and reminder her that he thought she was the most accomplished midwife at Nonnatus House.

By the end of their exchange Shelagh was reminded why she was the luckiest woman in the world to be married to Patrick and because of that she needn't care about what Nurse Crane thought.

Trixie

Trixie sat at the luncheon table with little appetite. She was still recovering from her over indulgence of drink the night before...in addition she had just broken her engagement with Tom.

Listening to the conversation of all the deliveries the previous day only made her feel worse, which was quite a feat considering how she was already feeling.

"We are lucky things did not go horribly wrong with Mrs. Bowe. A retired midwife and a secretary, tsk," Nurse Crane shook her head.

Trixie's head jerked, she was not having a good day and her patience was thin.

Sister Julienne looked shocked and was about to respond in some diplomatic way Trixie was sure, but Trixie spoke up first, "What!," she exclaimed quite loud, "If I was in a better mood, I would point out that Sister Monica Joan is not a secretary. SInce nothing is amusing today, I will point out that Shelagh Turner was the best midwife Nonnatus House ever had...sorry Sister."

Sister Julienne put her hand up as if to say 'no matter' and Trixie continued her tirade, "She trained Sister Mary Cynthia, Chummy and me and every other midwife we've had until she married last year. Please don't say Mrs. Bowe was in danger. I have seen Si...Shelagh perform an external version, get punched in the face and revive that same baby without a moment of hesitation and staying calm through it all. So I would request you show her the respect she deserves."

"Mrs. Turner, a midwife...Did anyone else know that?"

"I did. She told me when she hired me," Patsy said.

"I am very aware of her background," Sister Winifred added.

"I knew...Trixie told me," Barbara said.

Trixie was glad Barbara did not volunteer more information seeing as she had told Barbara all about Sister Bernadette.

"I think what Nurse Franklin was trying to explain is that prior to her marriage, Mrs. Turner was an indispensable part of Nonnatus House. She was missed very much when she left us."

"Why did she leave midwifery?"

"She left when she needed to be treated for tuberculosis. When she married she was still recuperating and Timothy was recovering from polio and then she and Dr. Turner adopted Angela," she paused and continued, "I certainly hope that this will encourage Mrs. Turner to return to midwifery whenever she is ready."

"I do hope you're right Sister," Trixie added.

Trixie noticed that Nurse Crane seemed humbled upon learning about Shelagh's background. She was glad as she had noticed how Nurse Crane had often disregarded Shelagh's experience at clinic.

Later when Trixie passed Sister Julienne in the hall, she said, "Sister, I am sorry about my outburst this afternoon."

"You said what I couldn't, so no apology is needed. You have had a difficult two days. Remember you are not alone."

"Thank you Sister."

"Thank you for standing up for our friend."

Later that afternoon Trixie stopped at the maternity home to check on Mrs. Bowe as part of her rounds.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Turner, might I have a word with you," she said very officially to Shelagh who was working at her desk.

"Of course."

They stepped into Dr. Turner's office and Trixie said, "I wanted to let you know that Nurse Crane won't be disrespecting you anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Shelagh, she made comments about your delivery last night and it became clear in all this time she did not know you are a trained midwife. I set her straight."

"You did?"

"Don't worry I gave no indication that...that you didn't wear this uniform," she said as she pulled at the front of her own uniform a bit, "I had sensed that she had been giving you trouble at clinic, but I hadn't taken the time to intervene...sorry."

"Thank you, Trixie. You are a true friend."

She gave Shelagh a smile, because helping her was the only bright spot of her day.


	16. Sister Julienne's Reflection

When Sister Julienne returned to Nonnatus House after delivering Shelagh's son, she was both elated and exhausted. Being with Shelagh on this very special day was more marvelous than she could imagine.

Arriving home after the great silence began gave her time alone before she would share the news with the others.

She told Shelagh that 'every woman alive was the sum of all she ever did and felt and was.' She was not sure where her words came from, but throughout the day she found herself thinking of Shelagh...The Shelagh that she now knew and of course Sister Bernadette…'Shelagh, the religious sister' as Shelagh described herself.

As she had many times, since she learned Shelagh was expecting, she remembered the disappointed and sad Shelagh who had tried to donate the baby's nightdress she had lovingly made.

At the time, she looked at the fine handiwork and tried to imagine, Shelagh, the new wife, sitting with her husband in the evening sewing hope for their future. She assumed that they would speak of their day and perhaps their plans for the future...But that image was foreign to Sister. It was easier to remember, her at Nonnatus House with their sisters doing handicrafts together.

Remembering the nightdress, reminded her of great joy as well. When she returned it to a joyful Shelagh...Shelagh, the new mother, following Angela's adoption.

She had become used to seeing Shelagh with her family...but she was unprepared for the Shelagh, she saw tonight...Tonight she was privy to a view of intimacies of a marriage, of Shelagh's marriage, that she could never have imagined.

The love she had for Charles was real, but they were young. It was not a mature love developed through years of sharing a life together...with both sorrow and joy. Had she chosen a different life, it could have flourished into the kind of love she saw tonight.

As a midwife, she spent her life helping the result of marital intimacies into the world. Still she does her job without much thought to what came before and truthfully to the father involved.

Shelagh had explained her reasons for not wanting her husband with her during childbirth. She did not want him to be her doctor. Sister Julienne felt that was fine, because his being a doctor was the only reason that he was even considered to be present.

She was used to the Turners as a team. They work so well together. She saw it first hand everyday in South Africa and of course here in the East End. She often wondered when they first became this team professionally.

Sister knew that she, herself, had often asked Sister Bernadette to work with Dr. Turner on her behalf. So often they were together at her request...but the time for that hindsight was well past. She remembered Nurse Franklin speaking after the extremely complicated delivery of the Carter twins...She raved about the job that Sister Bernadette and Dr. Turner did together. Yes, they had been a professional team for many years. She was sure of it.

She remembered the scared Shelagh who came to her for a nursing uniform. She was going to hold things together while her husband suffered emotionally. She was scared for him, but she was determined to keep their work going. This was a very different Shelagh than the one who came to her a year before to seek comfort and understanding after learning about her husband's struggles with war neurosis.

Yes, Shelagh was the sum of all the women she was before...and they as a couple are the sum of all that they experienced together...joy, sorrow and fear.

Sister wondered if Shelagh was hesitant to sing because the song in her heart was too personal...She sang of a secret love. Sister had limited knowledge of what the true nature of the relationship between the doctor and the nun was prior to Shelagh leaving the order. However secret feelings troubled the once Sister Bernadette and led to her secret love.

When the voice began singing from the other side of the door, she felt Shelagh's entire body relax. Sister realized that Shelagh needed her husband, who was her no longer secret love.

What was beautiful was how Dr. Turner understood his wife. He was able to support her emotionally and physically without becoming her doctor. The birth of their beautiful son was the most intimate moment that Sister had ever witnessed between a husband and wife. Shelagh was right, they truly were not like any other couple.

If Sister ever questioned the choice that Sister Bernadette made four years ago, she had no reason to. The love between husband and wife was so complete. They were supportive...When one faltered the other was there...Their love reminded her of her own greatest love...The love she had for Him.


	17. Advice

**This is some additional scenes involving Shelagh and Chummy and one entirely modified scene.**

22 December 1958

Shelagh was surprised to see a familiar face on the doorstep.

"Doctor is out on a house call Nurse Noakes. Do you want to step into the sitting room and wait?"

"I was actually hoping to see you. And I am no more Nurse Noakes these days than you are Sister Bernadette."

"I suppose not," Shelagh answer quite nervous.

"I don't suppose you are up for doing an old pal and a lot of small boys a favour?"

"Please come in and sit down and you can tell me what it is you need."

"Freddy is in the pram. I only planned to stay a moment...Let me get him," Chummy added realizing that perhaps she wanted some company.

Settled in the sitting room, Chummy asked about having her host the cubs Christmas party.

After Shelagh agreed she asked if Chummy wanted tea. Pouring the tea she felt quite awkward. She had been avoiding everyone from Nonnatus House. As Chummy pointed out, she too was no longer at Nonnatus.

"Chummy, you may call me by my name, Shelagh."

"Soon everyone will be calling Mrs. Turner," She said with a smile.

"I know. It feels quite strange."

"You are sure though?"

"Oh yes...but I am nervous too. Nervous of what everyone will think. Nervous I won't know how to be a...a wife."

"People will think what they want, but you have lots of people who cared about you...As for being a wife, if I can manage you certainly can."

"Look at you a wife and a mother," Shelagh smiled.

"Dr. Turner is a good man. Do you know he put me at ease on my first day at clinic. He made me feel like I was a good midwife...He will be a caring, gentle husband."

"I know."

"You once gave advice to me about dating."

"No...I didn't," she blushed.

"Well perhaps it was a warning. No matter, I am happy to give you advice in return, should you want it."

"Thank you Chummy. I will keep your offer in mind."

"Well I best get back to the rescue center to share the good news. Thank you Shelagh."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Early Spring 1959

The nurses and Shelagh had gathered at Chummy's house. Alterations were being made on the dress. Make up was being experimented with. Even Sister Monica Joan appeared with her hyacinth.

When everyone had left and only Shelagh remained, Chummy asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she answered with a big smile. "We have been through so much with Timothy's illness, I am so happy that it is finally happening."

"I made a promise to give you advice. If you have any questions...It's not everyday that one goes from a nun to a wife."

"No, I suppose not...but you already helped me. You reminded me of Patrick's ability to put everyone at ease. He will take care of me."

"Yes, and some more advice from an old married girl, it is perfectly alright to enjoy yourself."

"Oh Chummy!" Shelagh said embarrassed.

"All I'll say is too many women talk as if it is something that is done to them. It needn't be that way," Chummy knew she was embarrassing the former nun, so she stopped there.

Shelagh remembered Chummy's words on her wedding night and was very grateful for them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **NOTE: Much has been made about Series 6 needing to be rewritten when Chummy did not return. If any scene was meant for Chummy it was this...**

November or December 1962

Shelagh was in a fit of nerves, she had just snapped at Trixie and could feel herself falling apart.

"Come join me in the kitchen, old bean," Chummy jumped in.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen with a cuppa, Chummy knew Shelagh was nervous and she needed to open up. Chummy understood...she had discovered first hand that childbirth doesn't always go as planned.

"It looks like you've been too busy for clinic appointments."

"I've got so much to do."

"What you need to do is relax and start making some decisions about this baby. Have you decided where you want to give birth?"

"No."

"Or who you want as a midwife?"

Shelagh shook her head like a scolded school child.

"The funny thing about having a baby is that it is really so very exciting, until you remember that the little bean needs to get out. As midwives, we know too much," she said.

"I don't know why I'm so scared," Shelagh broke down.

"I know, old bean, I know," she said as she held Shelagh, "I think it's time you give up work so you can concentrate on preparing for baby."

"You're right. Chummy you have given me the best advice through the years. Thank you."

"You know it is all going to be tickety boo and marvelous."

"Do you think so?"

"I know so. Now get your things, you're going home."

"Will you tell Dr. Turner?"

"Yes, he will pleased."

"Thank you Chummy. You are a true friend."

As Chummy watched Shelagh walk away, she put her cross to her lips and offered up a prayer for Shelagh and her baby.


	18. The Lift

**This is outside of my norm and comfort zone. I like canon, but wanted to try non-canon for fun. Hiatus is dull…**

Set in S2e6

Sister Bernadette was not used to being the patient. She had laid still in Radiology for the detailed chest x-ray, she breathed when instructed for her examination by the Pulmonologist, she allowed herself to be jabbed. Now she was told that she was to meet with the chief pulmonologist in his office to discuss the plan for treatment.

The nurse explained that his office was on the fifth floor and Dr. Turner who seemed to be with her at every turn said, "Here we'll take the lift."

In her mind were the events of last night when she breezed into the clinical room because she was told he wanted to see her, only to be crushed by the information he shared. Then to have to bear his examination with him being so close...So close that she could still remember the touch of his hands and the feel of his lips on her hand. Now she could remember the faint feel of his breath on her neck as he listened to her lungs from behind.

He followed her onto the lift. There were two others already on, so they had to stand quite close together. Patrick wanted to say so many things, but knew he wouldn't...couldn't. He had already step out of bounds in the kitchen at the Parish Hall. Why was it the only woman he wanted was the one he couldn't have?

The lift stopped and the other two people got off. Sister started to move away from him a bit. When the lift started again with a lurch, She began to lose her balance and he quickly caught her.

He suddenly had her tiny body in his arms. She tried to pull away and right herself, but the lift lurched again and stopped. It was stuck. Rather than getting away from him, she ended up with her body pressed against his.

Sister knew she shouldn't, but she felt so safe and right in his arms. She clung to him and buried her face in his chest taking in the scent of him. He wanted to hold onto her like this and never let go. He wanted her to look at him again. She has been avoiding looking at him since the Parish Hall.

He pulled back just a little and reached his hand up to tilt her face, but she shut her eyes. "Sister, I wish you would look at me."

"I can't."

"You are going to be alright, but it will take time. I hate for you to be all alone for weeks...perhaps months."

Sister wanted to look into his eyes to get lost in them just one more time before she had to say goodbye for a long time. Instead she keep her eyes shut even as she felt his breath on her forehead and then his lips on her forehead. The lingering kiss was soft and gentle and sent a jolt through her. She could feel the heat creep into her cheeks.

She could hardly hear him as he whispered softly, "I wish everything was different."

He couldn't help himself. He knew it was wrong. Although if the blush in her cheeks meant anything, she was wishing things were different as much as he was.

If it was a different day, a different life, he would passionately kiss her on her lips, but that was never meant to be. His thoughts were interrupted by yet another lurch and the lift starting up again.

She moved as far away from him possible and stared at her feet. She wondered what he wish was different...That she did not have tuberculosis...That she was not a religious sister...That she was free to love him...She wished that all of these thoughts were different.

When the doors open on the fifth floor, she rushed out. Patrick realized that he was left too often with her back walking away from him.

 **Note: If you wanted a real kiss, I couldn't do it. TB is a communicable disease and Dr. Turner would not take that risk even for love.**


	19. Gloria

"Did you have a nice visit, Shelagh?" Gloria asked.

"Yes. I have been missing Timothy."

"Is it a picture of Timothy that you look at?" Gloria asked.

"Yes. Timothy's mother died a number of years ago. He was still young when I married his father," she explained.

"That's nice that he came to see you."

"Patrick had to attend to a patient so Tim decided to come instead."

"You are close?"

"I fell in love with Timothy at the same time I did his father," she paused, "He has been worried about me and Patrick has been trying to shield him...Tim is too clever. Still he doesn't understand that being a doctor makes things hard for his father."

"After my first loss, my husband was sad, but he tried so hard to be strong for me...He never grieved properly. Then after second one, he finally grieved for both little souls. It was devastating to see him like that…"

"We feel everything they feel when they are hurting."

Shelagh's mind wandered back to the difficulties after the adoption interview, the bout with exhaustion and the Thalidomide trauma...All times when she desperately wanted to make everything better for Patrick.

"I imagine mothers feel the same, perhaps more so when their child is sad."

"Yes, that is why I am so glad Tim and I were able to speak tonight. When he left he felt better."

"You love him even though you did not give birth to him."

"Oh yes! You do not need to give birth to a child to be it's mother. We have an adopted daughter as well," Shelagh picked up her framed photograph and showed it to Gloria, "I love both my children...We were told that I could never conceive...but somehow a miracle happened. I love this baby I never met, just as you've loved all your babies."

"For me the conceiving is not difficult...it is the carrying. I hope I can have that stitch and carry this baby to term."

"That would be so wonderful. Strange how we were happy with our family...Now it seems that all our happiness is pinned on this little one."

"...First it was enough to be in love and be married...Once I was pregnant all I wanted was a baby...I don't know how to be happy anymore. There is no joy in discovering I'm pregnant...only fear."

"I am so sorry, Gloria," Shelagh said compassionately.

"I see women on the street with a whole brood, expecting another, yelling at the ones they got...and I think 'It's just not fair'"

"In my work as a midwife I have seen women with so many children...often more than they can handle. It is the women like us that I remember...When I deliver a healthy baby after a loss...I always know that child will be treasured."

"I will be happy with just one."

"You will have that and more...You now know the cause of your problem and the solution. You can go to term with the cervical cerclage."

"If Mr. Kenly decides I am to have it...Oh how I wish you could deliver my baby, Shelagh."

"I would like that, but I don't see that happening...Unless…"

"No, we will not think like that. Hope...hope is what we need."

"Yes, hope and prayers," Shelagh added.

Gloria was listening to music when Sister Douglas came with the 'Nil by mouth' sign.

XXXXXXX

Gloria was being discharged after the loss of her third child at the same time Shelagh was experiencing a moment of pure joy.

Shelagh often thought of Gloria. She wished she could've found words to take her pain away. Anything she said would not have healed the wounds that required time.

She had faith that Gloria would find her miracle. With her diagnosis of incompetent cervix, her chance for carrying to term would increase greatly.

Shelagh could imagine meeting up with her at Chrisp Street Market both pushing a pram...even better Shelagh imagined a heavily pregnant Gloria walking into the clinic and Shelagh herself delivering her baby.

In the meanwhile Shelagh would continue the one thing she could...prayer. Sister Julienne's prayers brought Shelagh a miracle. Shelagh's prayers could bring Gloria a miracle as well.


	20. Dr Turner

**This is Series One, Patrick Turner when he wasn't written as a main character. I'm not sure he was even written as a widower, but since he is I tried to interpret his thoughts.**

Patrick Turner loves his work. His work is not easy and it requires him to see and smell things that would make most others sick, but still it's not without great reward.

Watching a new life enter the world, giving an elderly person some life back, prescribing penicillin to make a once life threatening illness recoverable in less than a fortnight makes it worthwhile for him. Every year the plight of the poor he serves continues, yet every year the advances in medicine gives him hope. He may be a practical man grounded in science, but he has hope that hard work will improve the district around him which he has dedicated his life's work.

There is a dichotomy about him. His work although hard keeps him truly content and happy. This contentment is always followed by a feeling of guilt...guilt over leaving his son Timothy alone too often, guilt because they rely on the chippy and fried bread far too often for their evening meal and most of all guilt anytime he smiles or laughs because his Marianne is gone and he's not mourning every moment.

The only others who work as hard as he does for the people of the district are the sisters and the young nurse midwives, although even the young midwives step out for a bit of fun. Yes, he has seen them walking to the bus all dolled up for an evening out. He, on the other hand, would be in his car trying to finish his rounds so he can get home to Timothy and his bed for some, if he's lucky, uninterrupted sleep.

He can go for days with only a few hours of sleep at a time. Even he can see the wear on him in his face. Some days the mirror shows a man ten years older, while others when he is well rested and smiling he looks as he should a man who still has a few years before that half century mark.

He knows the past year has taken a toll on him physically. His waistline is showing the effects of his diet. He's heard the nurses make comments about his appearance. The phrase "sorry looking jumper" has crossed his ears more than once. He doesn't really care...he works in hovels and filth and the last thing he needs is to spend his time off in the shops.

Tuesdays are his favourite day of the week. He loves the antenatal clinic. The church hall bursts with life as he greets everyone. He works non stop, but together with all the midwives they work like a well oiled machine. They help not only the expectant mothers, but their children by providing nutrition and education. On Tuesday he always feels a sense that they really are making a difference.

He watches as the young midwives grow in confidence and experience. He realizes quickly that the newest one needs all the help and encouragement he can muster. She's tall...built more like a man than a woman in the size department. He can tell her size has left her unsure of herself, yet he notices a large heart. He uses kind words to encourage her and to block out the insults of Sister Evangelina, for a religious woman she isn't always very nice, he says to himself.

He's tasked the large nurse with the contraceptive clinic. He considers himself a modern man and feels that woman should have a choice not to bring a new mouth, that they can't afford to feed, into the world year after year. He's a man and had been a husband so he's well aware of the needs of the husbands. Is it revolutionary to introduce the use of sheaths into the marital bed? He doesn't think so and he certainly isn't going to let God sway his opinion.

God is not a subject he thinks about. For a man who is surrounded by women who have taken vows to serve their God, he doesn't consider himself to be a man of God. So often in his life he has experienced things that a loving God would never allow. There was no God in the hospital tent where boy after boy appeared repairable. He had seen the horrors of war...where was this God then, he wonders. Even losing his wife to cancer did not bring God to him...No it's his job to use medicine and skill to heal, not some deity in the sky. When his medicine fails he knows he needs to work harder to prevent it the next time.

Yes, Patrick Turner loves his work. He has vision and hope for the future. Together with the sisters and nurses he knows that they can make a difference to many. He fights to not dwell on the past when their is a future of endless possibilities ahead.


	21. The Ring

**Note: This is a companion story of Unexpected Chapter 33.**

Patrick Turner looked at his left hand, there on his fourth proximal digit was the symbol of his union to his late wife. Their union was a marriage of love that started with promises made to one another in front of their families and God. As he said his vows that day twelve years ago, he believed that he would only ever have one wife. When she placed the ring on his finger, he intended to wear that band of gold forever.

The ring was an outward sign of his commitment to Marianne. It was there gleaming when he nervously took her on their wedding night and when he felt her expanding girth as the product of their love grew within her. It shimmered when he held Timothy, his son, for the first time as the early morning sunlight streamed through the window.

As he clung to her hand when she was passing from this life, the ring was reminder of the pledge of love they had made forever. He was her husband as he held Timothy's small and trembling hand and she was laid in the ground. He didn't want to stop being her husband, he thought, as his grieving son slept fitfully next to him in his bed. So he walked through life as Dr. Turner, widower, and he wore his wedding band as a tribute to his wife and their love.

The ring gleamed on his finger when he started having thoughts about a different vow. The vow that kept him awake, was not one made by him, but by another. His vow had ended in death, but ever present on his left hand was the reminder to him, if to no one else of what once was.

Yet somehow the band of gold became an imposter as his heart began to fill with a love that was not his to have. Still it remained on his finger as he gently held the spirit lamp and gazed into the soul he loved. When his left hand caressed her hand and brought her palm to his lips in an unforgivable kiss, he wore his ring.

His ring reminded him of her vow just as the stethoscope reminded his of his oath when he ever so carefully only touched fabric and metal although he longed to brush his fingertips on the smooth skin of her back and breastbone. Just to feel the softness that which was never meant to be his would have filled him with joy and sorrow.

The ring was still a reminder of the man he once was when he longed to reach across and take her hand in comfort on the drive to St. Anne's. It was there mocking him as he sat alone, absentmindedly stirring his tea at the roadside café on his way back to Poplar.

His ring continue to be his companion as he held the pen in his left hand and wrote letter after letter even when he feared they were only reaching the bin. Still he persisted and then finally today his ring was like an old friend he had outgrown when he reached out to her and touched her forehead.

He has a new love, an unbelievable love and so he unceremoniously removes the precious metal from his finger where it had been for so long and puts it away, out of sight for safe keeping. He thinks perhaps someday his son will wear it when he vows to love another. Patrick Turner looks at his left hand, his fourth proximal digit is now bare for the first time in many years, but his heart soars because he is certain it will not remain unadorned for long.


	22. Interrupted

**I spend too much time watching Christmas romance movies. They seem to have some recurring encounters. I wrote about the classic snowball fight in Snow posted under Turner Family Life. This is based on another moment when I yelled at the TV, "That always happens…"**

Patrick Turner felt as if he were in a dream. After months of hoping and longing, his wish had come true. The woman he loved Sis… Shelagh loved him too. Had she said it? No, but she said she was 'completely certain' and she left the order for him.

He longed for this outcome and still it was hard to believe that she chose him over her God. When he found her on the road, his heart was pounding with a combination of relief, nerves, and excitement. Still they introduced themselves like strangers… They weren't strangers, but were they friends? Yes, but in a very strained way.

Still if this was his dream, it seemed rather unfinished. Seeing Shelagh was not easy as there were appearances to worry about. Shelagh seemed uncomfortable and he was unsure if it was because she was adjusting to being out of her habit or because they were just getting acquainted. They were two people who worked together and grew an affection without words.

He was afraid when he invited her to the flat she would refuse. He was quite pleased that she agreed. He wanted the opportunity to get to know Shelagh better. They had a lovely meal and visit with Timothy to ease the tension.

When it was time for her to go back to her lodgings, Patrick told Timothy to go get ready for bed. He assured Tim that he'd be back to tuck him in. Stepping into the hallway, he helped Shelagh with her coat. He sensed that this gesture was quite new for her. She turned to thank him and their eyes met.

Looking into her eyes, he suddenly knew that although currently unfinished, this dream would become complete and the first step was to follow his strong urge to kiss her… not her hand, but her lips. Still connected with their eyes, he moved his face closer to hers. She didn't pull away and their lips almost touched when Timothy called, "Dad" and the silence was filled with the sound of his running feet approaching. They both separated quickly and straightened up.

"Dad… will you have time to read to me when you return," he asked.

"Yes son," he answered looking at Shelagh whose cheeks looked pink with downcast eyes.

Patrick touched her back to usher her out the door and she turned and said in her sweet lilt, "Goodnight Timothy."

Patrick felt disappointed although the opportunity to finally kiss her would come again. At least she knew that he wanted to. This moment reminded him a bit of the time their eyes met over the spirit lamps and Timothy's arrival interrupted… interrupted what? What would he have done or said if Tim hadn't run in. He followed that interrupted encounter by kissing her hand, perhaps this one will be followed soon by a proper kiss on her lips….


	23. A Visit To A Friend

Patrick felt nervous as he knocked on the door. He was not an invited guest and suspected that he might be unwelcome as well. He hoped not, because he didn't have to travel back very far to feel the pain, the hopelessness and the sorrow. He'd be the first to admit that there were differences… no two lives are the same. As hard as it was at the time, Marianne's death was not a shock as her illness was long and drawn out. They were also not newlyweds, but had shared some lovely years together. Nor was he left completely alone, because he had Tim, a part of his first wife that continues to live on.

Tom, Patrick realized, had one thing that he hadn't any of… faith. Patrick had lost the last bits of his beliefs, that his mother taught him, in the field hospital on the Italian battlefield as he had watched boy after boy perish. He couldn't save the lads and he could hardly save himself. Now he hoped that he could somehow save Tom.

The man that finally came to the door, looked a wreck worse than Patrick had during that bout of mental exhaustion. His eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot and dark circles, his face had the growth of more than a few days. He was dressed in a dingy, grey vest with braces hanging at his side. Patrick smelt the distinct aroma of whisky.

"Oh Doctor Turner, what…?" His words stopped as if he didn't have the energy to form a complete thought.

"Might I come in for a moment?" he asked gently. He had consoled more people than he could count in Poplar, but this was different. Tom was a friend and Barbara was a friend, a patient, a colleague and so very young.

Tom moved aside and Patrick looked at the kitchen, of course he had seen worse in the tenement flats that had made up Poplar. Tom motioned to the whisky bottle in a way of offering it to Patrick.

"Just a finger," he said knowing to refuse might put up a wall. Patrick remembered how the bottle was a lonely friend when he lost Marianne. Not expecting Tom to speak, he said, "This is a line that most scoff at, but I can honestly say that I know a bit about how you feel. I remember feeling lost and lonely with no hope."

Tom looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. Patrick spoke gently as he continued, "When I lost my Marianne, I didn't know how to go on. Just getting out of bed was impossible as was facing the empty bed each night. I know my life looks very different now, but I still love her and miss her greatly. That's the thing… I'm not saying that it will happen overnight, but it will get better ever so slowly. I had to move through my grief before I could open my eyes and see the possibility of a new life."

Tom just shook his head refusing to imaging living without his wife. Patrick continued, "You and I are both healers. We heal in different ways… As much as I couldn't heal my wife or Barbara, I still believe in the power of healing. I know you have counselled others… Want would you tell a grieving spouse?"

Tom looked confused. Slowly he raised his glass and lifted it to his lips. He made a face as if the smell of the amber liquid was making him sick. Mumbling, he said, "I would remind them of God's plan and His love for us, but those words seem so meaningless just now."

"You need to keep believing, I am not a man of faith and there are times when I wish I were. My wife's faith has to be enough for the both of us, but yours needs to carry you through. You have people who care about you, who love you. Remember you are not alone, no matter how alone you feel."

"You had your son," Tom argued weakly. "We hadn't time for a child. All those hopes …"

"You will find new hopes. Perhaps you can't even comprehend now. Do you really think that I ever imagined that I would fall in love again… with a nun? Of course not, but I believe like you said your God has a plan and loves you. As your doctor, I will tell you that, your job is to take care of yourself just a little bit more each day. Perhaps a bath and a shave would be the place to start…"

Tom looked stricken by his suggestion. Softly he said, "I can't the last time I shaved was for Barbara."

"A bath perhaps and clean clothes …" Looking around at untouched dishes and casseroles, Patrick added, "... and a decent meal. Although I'm not sure if this left out food is safe to eat."

"Phyllis put some away," Tom mumbled.

"Perhaps we should ask her to come and tidy up a bit for you. Perhaps her visit…"

"Tom interrupt and said, " you Doctor Turner. I might just have a bath."

Patrick knew he was being dismissed and upon leaving said, "I'd like to come visit again."

Tom nodded, as Patrick crossed the threshold. He suspected that the young man was not rushing to the bath, but these things take time and he never expected his visit would change anything. Still he knew, it was a visit that he had to make.

Arriving home, the warmth and the sounds of his family enveloped him. Shelagh met him at the door with a kiss on the cheek as she always did. She raised her eyebrow and he suspected she smelt the whisky.

Warily he looked at her and said, "I stopped in on Tom."

She nodded knowing the impact of his words and asked, "How is he?"

"As horrible as one would expect. It… it…"

"It brought back your own memories," Shelagh said quietly.

"Yes," he said looking at his wife, who knew him so well. He loved her so much and was very thankful that his life had turned out as it had. He had his wife and three children. He hoped that someday, Tom could find joy again, but it would take time as he understood only too well.


	24. Strength

Patrick listened as bossy Shelagh gave the what's what to the crowd in the surgery waiting room. She was so much stronger than he'd ever been. If left up to him, he would have seen each one individually and alleviated their fears until he was exhausted, ragged and discouraged… just like years ago with the gas and air. He never thought he would compare his beloved wife to Sister Evangelina, but there was no doubt that Shelagh had acquired some of her late sister's skills.

Shelagh was the strong one. He could still remember how she accepted her illness with stoic strength. He knew she had a higher power to draw her strength from,as well as support from her religious sisters, especially Sister Julienne. Through their marriage Shelagh learned to draw strength from him, as he had from her. This was not easy at first, as Patrick had always separated himself to face his trials alone. That was until he finally opened up to Shelagh about his war neurosis and his time at Northfield.

He found himself in a position to convince his patients to be strong scores of times. Often he could call on his experience as a father or husband, like when he convinced Robbins to accept his daughter or Mrs. Gani to accept her husband's child. He knew Shelagh would never

in that way accept his child, well except of course Tim, but he would also never put her in such a position. He loved her far too much.

Sometimes he felt pressure knowing that his advice was given on the cusp of a critical precipice. One of the most memorable being when he had to convince Nurse Miller, that she had nothing to do with baby Kelly's death and that she was still a highly skilled midwife.

As hard as his personal struggles have been, they had given him the insight needed to help others. None more important than when he sat on the bench outside of Nonnatus House and convinced Sister Mary Cynthia that she could be helped. As he had been when he had felt much the same way that she did then.

Today he found himself calling upon the memories of his own demons, to help Mrs. Dobson understand that her fear of childbirth was real and that they could help her. In remembering his own fears, he is somehow able alleviate those of others.

Returning home, Shelagh took one look at him and knew that he'd been emotionally challenged. Then using her bossy voice she said, "Later, after the little ones are tucked up, you'll tell me about your day."

Amazed still by how far he'd come emotionally, thanks to his wife, he said, "I can tell you now."

"No, because I want to give you my full attention without interruption. Right now, I think Angela and Teddy would enjoy some time with Daddy, without interruption.

Patrick smiled, grabbed Shelagh's wrist and pulled her to him. Holding her, he said, "Thank you."

"For what, Patrick?"

"For being my wife and for being you, even if you do have a bit of Sister Evangelina in you."

"Patrick!" she exclaimed swatting at him.

"I mean it only as the nicest compliment. No one keeps my life in control, as my very efficient, slightly bossy wife." Whispering in her ear he added, "You know how much I love bossy Shelagh."

He smiled as he watched a blush come over his wife's face. He knew that they would talk later, but for now he would enjoy his happy, unaverage, chaotic family,


	25. The Conversation

**I recently watched the very first episode for the nth time. I have never written about this episode, until now.**

The fog was thicker than he'd ever seen. His headlights were no match for the smoke filled fog. Still he carried on from case to case. The densely polluted air didn't help his patients' lungs. He saw three bronchitis cases before he was able to make his way to the tenement where the Warren family lived.

He'd visited their flat more than a few times during his time in Poplar. With that many children, he'd treated one or another for most any childhood illness… measles, mumps, chicken pox, flu…

He chastised himself for not arriving before the flying squad after all Conchita Warren was his patient. He took in the scene of the cramped bedroom and without missing a beat offered to help.

He nodded when his colleague commented about the accolades of National Health. It was a wondrous thing for the people he served. Regretfully Patrick knew only one being who should hate the National Health and that was poor Timothy. His son was abandoned more than he ever should be.

The wound of losing his mother was still so fresh. If only Patrick were a banker or shop keep or something equally as mundane, he would be tucked up in his flat with his son. Instead he was witnessing the miracle of life and love.

After slogged through the dense air, he sighed when he was finally home, not that his flat felt much like a home. He should have gone straight to his cold empty bed, but he knew he wouldn't sleep.

After having a debate inside his head he opted against tea. He poured himself a finger of Whisky instead.

He couldn't get the scene he witness out of his mind. The love and devotion between the couple was beautiful and painful. He missed Marianne in that moment and feared the tears might slip out, if not for the argument that pursued over taking the baby to hospital.

Reflecting on the Warrens, he wondered, how they were able to communicate. It was truly a mystery to a man who had struggled to communicate with his own wife. Both he and Marianne spoke English and at times it was like a foreign language. He was often the cause, because he kept his feelings to himself. He hadn't even been able to find the words to tell Marianne about his war and stay at Northfield.

His secrets were worse than a language barrier; still Marianne knew that he loved her. He hoped he showed her in the ways that matter.

Alone he sat in the kitchen and began…

"Darling, I don't know why I never told you, but the things I saw… the things I experienced during the war began to affect me and eventually it was just too much. So I…"


	26. The New Nurse

**In series one there is a recurring character and his backstory was not yet developed. I am taking a journey through S1 and writing pieces to connect him to the man we know and love. For S1e1, I wrote The Conversation.**

 **This is from S1e2.**

He had heard about her before he saw her for the first time. Sister Evangelina didn't have anything good to say and Tim. Well Tim told him that she was a giant. Apparently the local boys had been entertained by her disastrous bike lessons.

Upon finishing up a difficult delivery, Sister Bernadette turned to thank him, before riding off on her bicycle.

He quickly asked, "Sister, should I be concerned about the new nurse?"

She paused as if gathering her response. When she spoke she chose her words carefully.

"Nurse Brown is a bit unconventional, but she is a qualified midwife. I've no doubt that with proper guidance she will prove to serve Poplar quite nicely. Good night Doctor."

"Good…"

She was pedaling down the road before he could return her salutation.

He had to admit that meeting Nurse Brown was a day he wouldn't likely forget. His first thought was that Timothy wasn't far off. He had always felt confident in his height, but not next to the new nurse. He thought of Tim's comment and if she wasn't a giant then perhaps he was a dwarf.

He watched as she interacted with Brenda McEntee. She would have impressed him with her bedside manner alone. As it was, since his own abruptness had caused Mrs. McEntree to become emotional, he was even more appreciative of Nurse Brown's efforts.

What happened next was a disaster for the young nurse's ego. There was clearly not enough room for the two individuals to pass and certainly not him and Nurse Brown. They attempted a little dance to get past one another. Each side stepping, but Nurse Brown not being of a graceful nature, knocked into the table. The result was a racket as the table with the metal instruments and the screen fell. _Crash!_

Suddenly every eye in the clinic was on their little corner of the church hall. Patrick was uncertain which caused more of a commotion the tumbling items or Sister Evangelina's scolding. Either way he knew he needed to help restore the nurse's confidence.

In the kitchen, it occured to Patrick as he took a drag of his Henley before speaking to her that she may possibly be seeing an overworked GP and nothing more. Still he knew without a doubt if she didn't yet know about the widower doctor and his poor little son, she would as soon as she returned to Nonnatus House. So it was with that belief that he set out to convince her that she had done well with Mrs. McEntree and the rest was just mechanics.

His advice was ironic because mechanics was all he was relying on for too many months. He often felt as if he was going through the motions each day. Watching the new nurse repair the damage of his curt behavior and his subsequent advice was a slap in the face. He had to start caring again because that was what his patients deserved from him. That was why he was there.


	27. My Son Ted

**I know this connect had been made by someone before. From S1e3.**

Patrick's Tuesday morning surgery was not routine. Diagnosing a woman age forty-one with late term pregnancy was not an everyday occurrence.

He found it quite amazing that his diagnosis came as a surprise to Mrs. Lawson. It was far from a medical puzzle. Whilst both Mr. and Mrs. Lawson seemed shocked, Mr. Lawson was the only one to react with joy.

After breaking the news, he referred the mother-to-be to the antenatal clinic that afternoon. He had confidence that the Nonnatuns would provide the gentle care the shocked mother needed.

He briefly thought that Sister Bernadette with her gentle approach would be perfect for Winnie Lawson. Then he noticed with approval that she was instead receiving kid glove treatment from Nurses Franklin and Miller.

Mr. Lawson's enthusiasm caused Patrick to smile. Timothy wasn't so old that Patrick couldn't remember that joy of finding out he was to be a father.

That evening, when Timothy complained about the meager dinner he manage to put on the table, he was reminded that the joy of fatherhood could be challenged occasionally.

xxxxxxxxx

When he rushed to assist in the Lawson birth, he never anticipated the events that were about to unfold. His initial concern was for a safely delivered baby, but he saw that Nurse Franklin was quite capable.

He had seen it before, but he was ill prepared for the sight of Winnie Lawson's child. There was no doubt that the nervously excited man pacing downstairs was not the child's father. Although this was a story as old as time, it was completely unexpected for a woman like Winnie Lawson. Although there was no common description of a woman who would step out on her doting husband.

He managed to control his expression, giving a strained smile as he announced that he'd tell the father the good news. When he pushed through the laundry waving in the breeze, he found the new _father_ smoking a fag against a wall.

"It's a boy."

"A boy," Ted Lawson repeated.

Patrick was able to hold back the proud father. Together the men stood silently smoking whilst waiting to be called. He imagined the thoughts in their two heads were entirely different. Patrick thought about how this man would react when his dream was shattered. He hoped he could prevent a nasty scene.

He couldn't have been more surprised when Ted hardly reacted to the ebony babe. He hesitated a moment and then asked to hold him. He ran his finger across his tiny hand and said, "I don't reckon to know much about babies, but I can see this is the most beautiful baby in the world."

Patrick let out a breath that he felt he'd been holding for far too long. With it the tension in his shoulders relaxed. He thought of holding Tim for the first time and suddenly had regret that he would never experience that magical moment for himself again. Perhaps with a grandchild some day, he mused.

It was a remarkable moment when Ted Lawson chose to name the black child after himself, Edward. He said, "My son Ted."

Amazed by the father's love, Patrick found himself repeating that line over and over in his head.

"My son Ted."

"My son Ted."

"My son Ted."

He looked at his son and again he felt regret that his days with a tiny child are long gone. Tim was all limbs and no longer fit his lap. He could shut his eyes and remember holding him that very first time.

He repeated, "My son Tim. My son Tim. My son Tim."

He knew he would always remember that remarkable moment of love when Ted Lawson chose his son with the words, _My son Ted._


	28. The Right Direction

**This was from S1e4 which made it a challenge since Patrick was not in this episode.**

Grief seemed to play by its own rules. Although it had a beginning, it had no end. It would ebb and flow through the day and into the long hours of the night. Grief was a constant companion. Patrick Turner found that if he took one step forward, it would be followed by a half a step back.

He'd been asked to see Shirley Redmond during her visits to the antenatal clinic, if for no other reason than to reassure her. He wanted the best possible outcome for poor Shirley.

He had previously been called upon by Sister Evangelina after Shirley delivered a stillborn. That was the least favorite part of his job. When Sister tucked the lifeless child into her bag, she left poor Shirley broken.

Patrick understood broken as he had once been himself. As GP it was his job to check on her. His visits left him raw as he remembered his own emotional turmoil that sent him to recover at Northfield.

By the time, Shirley came out of her state, Patrick was too consumed with his wife's cancer to celebrate. Life was full of odd twists, when Shirley had a new healthy baby girl, Patrick had his grief.

The news that the Redmond baby had been taken spread through Poplar like the smallpox virus. Even Timothy was talking about it over his bowl of Corn Flakes. What Patrick wasn't prepared for was the speculations that swirled. When the police came to ask him questions about Shirley, it made him angry.

He knew his anger wouldn't help find that baby. He didn't want to be judged by his reaction to what he had experienced in the war. He bloody well didn't want his patient to be judged by the way she grieved for her stillborn.

He calmly explained the loss that Mrs. Redmond experience and her great concern during her second pregnancy.

"This is woman who loved a baby she never met. She would never hurt her healthy child. She has had two babies taken from her. You need to stop asking questions and find that baby."

When Patrick was called to attend to Shirley, she was in a state much like after her stillborn. He recognized and understood her condition, but although he tried to speak with her, he was unable to cure her.

There were days when he wanted to crawl into himself like Shirley had done, but he didn't. He carried on for Tim and his patients. He hid in his work, but of late his work was making it hard to hide. The grief of another was taking him backwards, but he was acquainted with it enough to know that there would be a way forward.

When the news came that the Redmond baby had been found, he was called to examine the infant. The joy he felt upon declaring that Jillian Redmond would fully recover after being properly hydrated propelled him a step forward. Forward no matter how slight was the right direction.


	29. The New Nurse Part 2

Note: This story includes my personal headcanon as to Timothy being an only child.

Patrick had a certain rapport with the new nurse different than with the others. She wasn't actually new any longer as she had earned her stripes. Perhaps the difference was because he had to look up to her, literally. He liked that she was an odd duck and quite often a duck out of water at the same time.

The one thing she did was make him laugh and that was certainly something he hadn't done enough of this past year. In fact walking up to the Church Hall door together she told him a story that had him in stitches. He suddenly felt happy and as a result entered the antenatal clinic with a smile on his face. He might even admit that he was in a jolly good mood.

He always loved clinic day. He saw patients as part of a well-oiled machine and felt a part of something bigger. It also was exactly as he envisioned his work would be when he chose to serve the East End. He was making a difference thanks to the National Health Service.

Still there was another difference that he wanted to make. There were far too many babies being born in the district, everywhere really. It was unnecessary because family size could be managed with proper prevention. He and his beloved Marianne were able to manage theirs. Truth told he would have liked another child or two, but Marianne never approved of large families. Because his work often left her to raise Timothy alone, he didn't attempt to change her mind. Now none of that really mattered anymore.

It was because they got on so well that he asked Nurse Browne to teach the contraceptive session. The goal was to reduce the number of babies being born into families that couldn't afford to care for them.

He just wished that God wasn't mixed up in the issue of contraception. Ironically Sister Bernadette had often taught the sessions and who would argue God's wishes with a nun. He personally thought it was a bit ironic for a nun who would never have marital relations to demonstrate the proper placement of a sheath on a wooden penis.

When he saw Sister Bernadette later he asked how the session had gone.

She laughed and answered, "Chummy did a marvelous job. She was a bit shaky at first, but she recovered remarkably."

"Wonderful Sister," he smiled.

"Was there something else doctor?"

"No, no thank you Sister."

As he walked away he thought about how her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed.


	30. Mind and Body

Whilst Marianne was sick and now after she had passed, Patrick found himself at odds when caring for patients with senile decay. He'd see patients whose minds were failing, yet their bodies were functioning. Although his wife had a young body, he was rendered useless to stop it from failing and taking with it her fully functioning mind.

Would he grieve less if she were with him in body and not in mind? He's presumed not.

As he walked with Sister Bernadette and discussed the status of Sister Monica Joan's senile decay, he felt a comfort. He looked into her eyes and saw concern for her sister. He'd seen her show similar concern for Timothy and even for himself. Somehow her concern never felt awkward, but rather the opposite.

Patrick had been feeling disappointed and feared that earlier in the day, he had failed to convince the jury of Sister's senile decay. He sighed when he was called out quite late to assist in a delivery, but was glad to find that it was Sister Bernadette's patient who required his expertise.

"Sorry doctor. I know you must be tired, but we seem to be at an impasse. Poor Margie here has been pushing and the head appears to be trapped by the pubis."

As expected, she was absolutely right. Forceps would be necessary. They worked together quite smoothly. She seemed to anticipate each of his needs before he asked.

Once baby was safely delivered, he dared to speak of what was weighing on his mind.

"Sister, I fear I failed to convince the court…"

"Doctor, according to Sister Julienne, it was Sister Monica Joan and not you, who failed to convince the court."

"It's just that I know how concerned you were about her."

"We are all concerned that she may be forced to live her last days in prison."

"When she was sick, I could see you were concerned."

"Doctor, that is true, but if our dear sister hadn't recovered from the pneumonia, we would have missed her. Still she has had a long and fulfilling life." She paused and said, "It's when young people, who still have more to give, are taken from us that I find it difficult. I'm certain you would agree."

He nodded as he comprehended that she was addressing his questions of mind versus body or rather old versus young. He knew that as a doctor, he struggled with the death of a child, like he had over the boys in Italy.

Of course, she looked upon death differently than him. He knew if he asked, she would tell him about something that transcends both body and mind that is meant to live on forever. Although he didn't believe as she did, he hoped that her beliefs were right. He felt comfort in knowing that the sisters believed that a part of his beloved wife was alive someplace, just not here with him and Timothy.

 _Yes, he honestly hoped that he was wrong._


	31. Timothy's Dad

Until Marianne passed and Timothy became his responsibility, Patrick hadn't really been a parent. He was Daddy and later Dad, but he was never responsible for all the things his boy needed.

Of course he provided the means financially, but he never worried about the size of his son's feet or even about the lad at school who stole his dinner money. His mother was in charge of those details, whilst he served the people of the East End.

When he came home, it was for a tousle, a tickle and a tucking in. More often than not he saw the boy in his pyjamas at the start and end of every day.

All that changed when suddenly all the worrying that was meant for his wife was now his alone. It was worrying that their first Christmas might undo things that caused him to open up to Sister Bernadette. She had asked about Timothy often, but rather than answering about his son, he answered about his own concerns.

He hadn't expected Sister to respond by sharing her own story. He knew she was attempting to alleviate his concerns. Truthfully she succeeded and he left feeling a bit lighter.

Being a parent required organisational skills that he sorely lacked. Timothy made certain he never forgot any error from not finding a tea towel for play rehearsal to being late to pick the boy up. He tried, but couldn't sort out all the little details and often felt like a failure.

Patrick was notoriously late. There just wasn't enough time in the day to meet every need. He knew he was running late for the nativity play and as he rushed in to take a seat, he saw Timothy's sad looked erased with a smile. Seeing his boy dressed in tea towel and dressing gown as was expected, Patrick smiled. That smile was one of a proud parent, but the wink was from Dad.


	32. Sympathy

**I am continuing on my series of Patrick through the episodes.**

Patrick Turner had received sympathy from Sister Evangelina only twice. The first was his undoing and the second may have saved him.

The first was when his dear Marianne's prognosis had become certain. She had been caring for his wife, as she was on the district rota. Before taking her leave, Sister entered the sitting room to find him with his face in his hands. No longer able to cling to hope or even doubt of the specialist's expertise, he had to concede he was losing his love.

Sister Evangelina, who was no nonsense to her very core, only poured on the sympathy for the most deserving of cases. When she put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a strong squeeze and a rub. He looked up at her.

She said, "I know you hurt. Save your strength for your wife and son."

"I can't save her," he sobbed.

"I know, but you are not alone. My sisters and I are here to support you. We'll do all we can to ease the burden."

"You know I don't believe like you do."

"He will still help you."

She gave his shoulder another squeeze and left. He sobbed knowing that he was helplessly deserving of Sister's sympathy.

The second time was just after Marianne's burial. He sat at his desk feeling quite lost. Sister Evangelina found him and patted his back. He felt a sob break free.

"Doctor, you're lost and deservingly so. However idleness isn't the best remedy for your sorrow. It will only exacerbate it. The best thing to do for you and Timothy is to put your chin up and carry on. I know you couldn't save her, but there are people in this district who you can save."

He wanted to be angry with her, but he knew she was right. As hard as it was, he had to keep living.

Since that time, they had sparred from time to time. Sister Evangelina made it clear that she thought he had too many grand schemes since his wife died. The most significant was the Maternity Home.

To Patrick, he was following through with Sister's own advice to help the district. So when women started begging for gas and air, he felt that he was providing the best care available by rushing to the bedside of every labouring woman.

Sister Evangelina found him at his desk quite ashen from exhaustion and the realisation that he couldn't continue being everywhere all the time. She once again squeezed his shoulder and looked into his eyes with a compassion that she rarely squandered.

"That's it. No more gas and air at home delivers. You are going to kill yourself and leave young Timothy an orphan. Your duty to the people of Poplar does not come before your son or your health. Now that's sorted. I'll go inform the others?"

With his jaw gaped open, all he could do was nod. She had saved him again.

Thrice Sister Evangelina has shown him sympathy. He had no doubt that they'd spar again, but it didn't bother him, because he knew she truly cared.

 **If you were hoping for Patrick's thought on his button. I wrote about that in Chapter 14 of Granny Parker.**


	33. Heart

**I have written about Patrick and the Kelly baby in two other stories. Strength (What If And More Chapter 24) and The Matter Of Faith (What If And More Chapter 12)**

Patrick had been at the surgery when the call came in. Baby not breathing in his experience never had a happy ending. When he leaned over the cot, he only had to glance to see that he wouldn't be able to save the baby.

Still he took his stethoscope and listened for signs of life. The stethoscope was a powerful tool. For such a simple invention, it could tell the difference between life and death, health and sickness. He'd witnessed moments when his stethoscope had heralded great joy and great sorrow.

In this moment the nothingness in his ears only confirmed what he'd already knew. His trivial words were of little comfort. When he dreamed of being a doctor it was not for moments like this when he lacked answers. Nothing he could do or say would help the Kelly's in their grief. _That was one thing he knew for certain_

As he instinctively attempted to talk Mrs. Kelly out of holding her lifeless baby, he questioned himself and his training. Who was it who decided what was best for mothers in their moment of loss? Did those experts ever experience such pain themselves? Would one last memory of the feeling of her child in her arms harm her more than having no memory at all?

Practicing medicine without heart, was useless, but with heart made it painful. It was his heart that he relied on to carry him through those moment in that crowded room.

Some things Patrick accepted as truths - his stethoscope will continue to herald bad news and as long as he led with his heart, he would have a purpose in the worst of times.


	34. Trust

**A new look at S2e3**

Patrick never assumed to know every resident of Poplar, nor did he do business with green grocers. Buying fresh veg from a stall would mean cooking and Timothy had made his option of Patrick's culinary skills or rather the lack of them quite clear.

Meeting the two Mrs. Carters was a shock to the seasoned GP who thought he had seen just about everything. At the end of clinic, as they were discussing how to care for the reluctant mother and her baby, he knew they had a challenge ahead.

After being chastised by Sister Monica Joan once again for his testifying in court about her senile decay, he reminded his colleagues that they had to gain Mrs. Carter's trust.

Patrick had faltered with trust in his life. He struggled with trust of his own self when he broke down during the war. Then he lost trust in fate when Marianne took ill. What he still had was trust in medicine - not infallible trust, but trust that it would do more good than harm.

He certainly had trust that Mrs. Carter was in good hands, as he sat looking on in the birthing chair that hadn't been used in over a century. His trust extended to Nurse Franklin and Sister Bernadette's knowledge and skill.

He was certainly glad that Sister Bernadette was there as he trusted no other Nonatun like he did her. Twice that night he completely trusted in Sister's expertise. The first was as she performed the external version and the second was when she was Eve's rocking the lifeless newborn. The two acts couldn't be more different as one used strength and might, whilst the other required a gentleness that moved something inside of him.

In the morning, Patrick attempted to express in words his gratitude and trust with his comment about the officer and the sergeant. What he hadn't expected was for Sister to turn the tables and trust him by opening a little window into her past. As she disappeared into the morning, Patrick wondered if she'd trust him like that again. Suddenly he wanted more of her trust. He wished that she'd open that window wide enough for him to climb in.


	35. Independence

Patrick Turner wasn't angry with Timothy when he appeared at clinic with a graze on his arm. Admittedly he was surprised, because Tim should have been at school. When all was over, he wasn't even angry with the school. In fact, he had done worse by his son himself.

If he was angry with anyone it should be himself. He could blame Timothy's independence on the loss of his mother, but the truth was that it was Patrick's fault.

Independence wasn't typically a bad thing, but it was when a boy aged ten year was consistently left to his own devices. The school wouldn't let just any injured child leave, but they let his son. Why? Because Timothy was independent and had assured them that he knew the way. He convinced them that he could take care of himself, but he should be taken care of.

Timothy knew his way to his father, but did his father know his way to his son. Somehow whilst he buried himself in his work, he forgot to make time for his son. When Tim appeared needed care, he was reminded that he was all Tim had. He was doing a poor job of it.

After explaining Spina Bifida to the shocked Roberts, he assured Mr. Roberts. "We'll take great care of your son."

At the end of the day, Patrick returned home in time to share a meal with his son. After reading to him and tucking him up, Patrick put on the kettle for his lonely cup of tea.

He remembered his assurances to Mr. Roberts, but wondered, _Who is taking care of my son?_

"You need to up your game, Patrick," he said to nobody. He carried his tea to the sitting room and something caught his eye. There on the table next to Timothy school books, was a drawing. He studied his son's artwork and the subject of the picture.

He said to the walls, "She took care of my son for me. If only… If only things were different."


	36. Loneliness

**From S2e6. If you have been following my recent chapters you will notice that I skipped S2e5. I had planned to write something, but then I read the entry in** _ **Doctor Turner's Casebook**_ **about Nora Harding and decided that Dr. Turner's journal entry said it all.**

Patrick was called to the Master's In Arms and quickly assessed that the landlord, Mr. Masterson, was in an advanced stage of heart failure.

He was a man who had lost everything, except his daughter. Still he was too stubborn to appreciate the one child he had left. Grief and loneliness had eaten at him until there was nothing left, but a sad, pathetic, old man.

Patrick felt a kin to the old man. Here he was making an evening house call to a room above the pub when all he had was at home waiting for him. Recently he'd made an effort to be there for his boy. Tim needed a Dad, not a grieving old man.

Patrick too had lost all, except his only son. He had lost his wife and had held on to the grief at the expense of living. Without a change, he would have been destined to end up like Mr. Masterson in his own old age. The problem was that Patrick had changed and opened his heart, but still his future seemed equally as lonely. He had finally started living again only to find himself longing for what he couldn't have.

He felt as if he had lost a woman that was never his. He had done the unforgivable, but wanted -no needed forgiveness. The day Sister Bernadette accompanied him to city hall, he wanted to ask for that forgiveness, but in their silence the words in his mind felt hollow.

Never had he been more desperate to speak then when he left Sister at Saint Anne's. Still he had no place to say the words, he wanted to say. Any words, he said, would be just as unforgivable as his impulsive action in the parish hall.

Feeling as lost and sorrowful as he had during his wife's illness and passing, he stopped on his way home for a cuppa. He should have returned straight to London -to his son, but he needed a few moments to himself.

The events of the last two days played in his mind -the elation over the turn out, the pleasure of working in the van with Sister, the shock at seeing her x-ray, the devastation of telling her, the surrealness of examining her. Being so close to her slender back, he imagined if he brushed her skin, it would feel like velvet. Then there was her silent resolve and the vulnerability and fear hiding behind her crystal blue eyes.

Patrick groaned. His tea had grown cold and it was time to return to Poplar. He still didn't know how he would tell Tim about Sister's illness. It was so soon after he had lost his mummy. Worse Patrick wasn't certain how he would carry on without her presence in his sad life.


	37. Foolish

**This is from S2e7. I also wrote Chapter 7, The Visitor about this episode, which is not canon, but a favorite of mine.**

Patrick was contemplating as he turned the bread. He thought there were better dinners to offer his son, but at least it wasn't more fish and chips.

He had felt himself feeling more hopeless as the weeks wore on. Summer had faded and he still had no word from Sister. Was he foolish to keep writing to her?

He still felt foolish remembering back to his conversation in the parish hall kitchen with Nurse Franklin. When she said that Sister's letters were regular, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. In an effort to mask his pain, he acted silly.

Shaking his head as he set another bread in the hot lard, ' _Tickety boo and marvelous'._ He sounded ridiculous and then he was so flustered, he dropped his spoon. His attempt to nonchalantly ask of news of Sister Bernadette failed miserably and he managed to draw more attention to himself.

He set the golden bread on the table proud that even with his musing he hadn't burnt any. Sitting with his son for a meal, albeit late in the evening, he attempted to make light conversation.

He asked Tim about his day and Tim ventured into a story from play time. The boy did have a way of making Patrick laugh as he recounted his schoolmates antics.

The gloom that had possessed him earlier had lifted until Tim asked, "When will Sister Bernadette come home?"

"I don't know Tim. TB is a disease that requires a long time to recover."

Oh how he wished he knew the answer. He just wanted to hear her sweet lilt and look into her blue eyes.

"Do you think she got the moth?"

"Nurse Franklin assured me that she had and was quite pleased about it."

He didn't tell Tim that Nurse Franklin herself had found the gift odd. Patrick should have felt slighted for his son, but a part of him agreed. Sister was too good to slight anyone. Well anyone, but him as his letters went without response from her.

Patrick knew he wasn't just anyone. He was a man who had inappropriately done the unforgivable. He ignored her vows the day of the fete. She was forced to ignore his letter, because to acknowledge them would be to admit she cared for him too.

After tucking Tim up in bed, he sat with pen in hand and scrolled another letter. He shared news and everything he longed to tell her. He stopped short of the one thing he truly wanted to say, because that would be inappropriate and unforgivable.


	38. In Due Course

**For another story I wrote on S2e8, see the first chapter, The Phone Call.**

"What does in due course mean?" Tim asked.

Patrick answered his son, but in truth he wasn't entirely certain. He did feel a bit of hope. This was the first acknowledgement of his letters from Sister. He had written regularly as much for himself as for her. He had learned years ago at Northfield that journaling and letter writing could be therapeutic. Patrick had often pecked out journal entries on the old typewriter at the surgery.

The letters were different, because they were written to be read by another. When he started, he hoped they might be answered. Finally he learned that they may be _in due course._

He also rolled one word over and over in his head -kind -' _his kind letters'._ Was she just being kind? Did she realise just how deeply he cared? What did it mean? Dare he hope that she cared enough. His joy of her response was being replaced with uncertainty.

He had overheard that her recovery was progressing quite well and was optimistic that she would return to Nonnatus House soon. He had waited so many weeks. He could wait a bit longer.

##

His heart was racing as he drove towards Woodford Green. He kept replaying their telephone conversation.

"You said what was necessary."

"I was living the wrong life."

Of all the words she said the most amazing were when she indicated that she no longer answered to the name, Sister Bernadette. He was certain that the procedures she referred to involved her giving up her name.

Was he a foolish old man to hope that all this was for him? Could she care for him as he cared for her?

If only he could drive faster, so he could finally find out the answers he desperately sought.

 _In due course, man. In due course._

 **I wanted to look closer at Patrick before his character was defined. I started with the first episode and continued through Series 2 focusing on him being a widower, single father and his attraction to Sister Bernadette. Once he finds her on the misty road Patrick is no longer walking through life alone. I think for that reason, I will be done. I plan to continue this rewatch, so I may not be done writing. I have written Patrick many times published in this What If And More story as well as Turner Family Life.**

 **In Granny Parker, I go through the events of S2 through the POV of Granny and some of Patrick.**

 **Thank you for reading my work both my canon stories and my AU series Unexpected and its sequel and prequels which took on a life of its own.**


	39. Two Lads Walking Down The Street

**I was challenged to write this story after my friend, Al, overheard two lads walking down the street having the conversation below about one boy's dad being a doctor and his crush. This is a modern AU. It is meant to be fun.**

Tim wasn't certain why he decided to try out for football. He hadn't played on a real team since just after he left nursery. Mum had told him that it looked like twenty boys running after the same ball, except for him. He apparently was too busy picking grass which wouldn't be so horrible except he often just sat on the pitch.

His Dad preferred cricket and most of his mates on the estate liked to strike the ball rather than kickabout. Somehow he allowed himself to try out for the school team.

He was flabbergasted when he made it. Even his dad was surprised when he told him.

"You didn't take to the sport as a young lad. Did they like your skill in grass picking?" his Dad teased.

Tim rolled his eyes. "I think it's these long legs. I can run fast."

His excitement in making the team was replaced by frustration during practises when the others had more skills than him.

One bloke, Ian, who was short and full of attitude and skill, approached Tim. "Hey Turner. Meet me here tomorrow."

Tim did and Ian forced Tim to do drill after drill until even he knew he was improving.

"You might not be half bad, Turner," Ian decided the day before their first match.

Amazingly, they came away with a victory and the only grass Tim picked was the blade that ended up in his mouth when he tripped over the ball and face planted.

After the game the two boys were walking to the sweet shop to celebrate.

"My dad couldn't believe that I played!" Tim exclaimed.

"Your dad looked a bit stodgy wearing a tie to football. What does he do?"

"My dad's a doctor."

"What about your Mum?"

Dad had brought Shelagh, the nurse from his surgery to watch too. Shelagh had waved at Tim and given him two thumbs up. Dad looked nervous until the end of the match when he had a great big smile. As soon as it was over the two of them disappeared back to the surgery.

"She isn't my Mum."

"His girlfriend then?"

"More like a crush."

Tim liked Shelagh and he was certain that his dad did too. He was fine with medical stuff, but anytime his dad tried to talk to her, he sounded stupid. Tim was certain she liked his dad, because she would blush.

"Do you want them to be more?" Ian asked.

"More?" Tim was confused.

"You know date, live together, get married…"

"Tim thought about the time Shelagh gently put a plaster on his scrape and the cottage pie she made for Dad's birthday. He liked the idea of having that more often.

He replied, "Not that it matters my dad is too shy."

"You can make it happen," Ian said.

"How?" Tim asked curious.

"You just need to trap them alone together. My older sister watches dumb movies and that's how they always fall in love."

"How?" Tim was so fascinated he only knew one word.

"Let's go check out his surgery," Ian said quite confident.

Tim brought him to the five story medical building down the road from The London. When they entered the reception a man in overalls greeted Tim.

"S'up Fred?" Tim responded.

"Not much just about to fix a fuse up in your dad's surgery."

Ian asked, "Do you maintain the lift?"

"No, a company does that. The most I do is pull the emergency shut off in an…"

"Emergency," Tim said with a smirk.

"Right you are. You're a smart lad."

"Hey mister… um Fred could you help us out with something?" Ian asked.

########################################################

Patrick was nervous when Shelagh invited herself to Tim's football match. He wasn't certain what to expect from his boy, but worse than that he was nervous to be with Shelagh outside of the surgery. Just her lilac smell was enough to make him mute.

She had no trouble speaking to him about any number of things. He'd just nod with his dry mouth. Even keeping a water bottle handy didn't help. He couldn't even discuss when, he had not so coincidentally, watched the same Netflix show that she had been currently binging.

He was glad when they returned to the surgery and set to work making up for the time they missed. Tim stopped by and he heard Shelagh gushing about how great he had played. He liked her even more, because she was kind to his son.

Patrick didn't deserve Shelagh. In fact he didn't deserve any woman. Really why would he when he hadn't been able to keep his own wife happy. Tim was age five when Marianne took off to the continent with some guy from a rock band.

One night she was making toad-in-the-hole for their dinner before going out with the girls from her office. A few nights later, she was leaving him and Tim for _the best sex she'd ever had._

Obviously his best wasn't good enough, because he thought everything was perfect. If he couldn't keep a wife, why would Shelagh want him?

When Patrick came out of an examination room, he said, "Tim, I'll be late because of the game. Shelagh agreed to stay, so it shouldn't be too long."

"Then to thank her, you should both meet me around the corner at the chippy," Tim volunteered.

Patrick was about to protest, but he noticed Shelagh overheard. He couldn't be rude so he said, "Alright son, if Shelagh wants to, that is."

The boy blurted out, "She does. Right Shelagh?"

Kindly she agreed, "Thank you, Timothy."

Tim ran off.

Patrick was tired and tongue tied when he ushered Shelagh onto the lift. As agreed he had texted Tim's mobile to let him know they were on their way. How was he going to get through a meal with her? He'd probably choke on a vinegar soaked chip.

Instead he distracted himself with all the reasons why they shouldn't be eating fried fish -cholesterol, saturated fat. Shelagh was studying him intently.

"What are you mumbling about?" she asked.

"Cholesterol," he croaked.

She nodded just as the lift lurched and came to a stop. Instinctively he reached out to steady her as she began to lose balance. Just as quickly he let go, but now he knew how nice it was to hold her perfect tiny form.

Patrick looked down at her with panicked eyes. Were they stuck and if so for how long? What would he say to her?

She spoke first and asked, "Doctor are you alright?"

He nodded.

She took control and pressed the emergency intercom. "Hello, hello. The lift appears to be stuck."

"Is that you, Nurse Mannion?" the voice boomed through the lift.

"Yes, Fred. I'm stuck with Doctor Turner."

"Just the two of you?" Fred's voice asked.

"Yes, Fred."

"I'll call for help, but it might be awhile. Perhaps an… um hour. Maybe as long as an hour."

Patrick squeaked out, "Tim!"

Shelagh calmly said, "Tim is waiting at the chippy around the corner. He needs to be told. Our mobiles won't work in here."

"No worries. I'll let the lad know," Fred replied sounding remarkably calm.

Shelagh turned to Patrick and said, "Well that's that. We might as well get comfortable."

Patrick watched as she sat down on the lift floor. She began digging through her handbag. She eventually pulled out a bag of oyster crackers and said, "Are you hungry?" Patrick shook his head and watched as she retrieved a roll of Polos and asked, "Mint?"

Patrick accepted hoping it would unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He knew she was just being kind. She certainly didn't offer him a mint so that he would kiss her. Just that thought was enough to glue his eyes to her mouth. He studied her pink lips. Even without any gloss, they looked perfect.

She began talking about Tim's game and he only half heard what she was saying. He was fascinated as she was twirling her loose strand of hair around her finger. She stopped only long enough to touch her lip. He was unhinged when her tongue found its way to the spot she just touched.

"Doctor?" she asked.

He looked right into her eyes. Suddenly he was aware that she caught him staring. He couldn't speak, but much to his surprise, he had the strength to reach up and push that stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

She grabbed his hand. He didn't pull away and she didn't release it. Her bright blue eyes pierced into his green ones, as she whispered, "Doctor?"

Perhaps it was the mint or the security of his hand in hers, he managed to speak and said, "Patrick."

She smiled and he thought he may have a coronary event. Would she start CPR? Would she have to do mouth-to-mouth?"

Just the thought of mouth-to-mouth and the sight of her tongue on her lip again made him crazy. He couldn't think, he just instinctively reached up with his free hand and brushed her soft cheek and lightly grazed her rosy lips in the process.

She whispered, "Patrick."

Before his crazy brain knew what was happening they were both leaning in towards each other. The minute his lips felt hers, he felt a wave of emotion flow through his body. He been missing this for a long time. He had been alone and just this rather chaste kiss gave him strength.

When he looked at her, she was smiling and he captured her lips again, but this time wasn't quite as chaste. She didn't protest and put her hands on his shoulders and around his neck. When they broke away she leaned against him. He could smell her hair sweet with lilac.

He didn't know what to say to her. She spoke first and said, "I have dreamt of a moment like this for a very long time."

He smiled and nodded and knew that he had to learn to speak to her. "Me too."

They were stuck in the lift and for another fifty minutes and decided to use the time to practice their new intimacy. When the lift started moving again, they were still sitting on the floor. When the door opened, Fred and Tim on the other side saw that Patrick had his arm around Shelagh and they were all smiling.


End file.
